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BOOKS BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK 

THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES 

The Ranch Girls at Rainbow Lodge 
The Ranch Girls^ Pot op Gold 
The Ranch Girls at Boarding School 
The Ranch Girls in Europe 
The Ranch Girls at Home Again 
The Ranch Girls and their Great Ad- 
venture 

THE RED CROSS GIRLS SERIES 

The Red Cross Girls in the British 
Trenches 

The Red Cross Girls on the French 
Firing Line 

The Red Cross Girls in Belgium 
The Red Cross Girls with the Russian 
Army 

The Red Cross Girls with the Italian 
Army 

The Red Cross Girls Under the Stars 
AND Stripes 

STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS 

The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill ' 
The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows 
The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside 
World 

The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea 
The Camp Fire Girls’ Careers 
The Camp Fire Girls in After Years 
The Camp Fire Girls in the Desert 
The Camp Fire Girls at the End of the 
Trail 




Vera’s Movement had been too Quick 


THE 

CAMP FIRE GIRLS 
ON THE EDGE OF 
THE DESERT 


BY 

MARGARET yANDERCOOK 

Author of “The Ranch Girls” Series, 

“The Red Cross Girls” Series, etc. 


ILLI^STRATED 


PHILADELPHIA 

THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. 


PUBLISHERS 


Copyright, 1917, by 
The John C. Winston Co. 

STORIES about CAMP FIRE GIRLS 

Eight Volumes 

The Camp Fire Girls at Sunrise Hill 
The Camp Fire Girls Amid the Snows 
The Camp Fire Girls in the Outside World 
The Camp Fire Girls Across the Sea 
The Camp Fire Girls’ Careers 
The Camp Fire Girls in After Years 
The Camp Fire Girls on the Edge of the 
Desert 

The Camp Fire Girls ^ at the End of the 

Trail [ 

< • 


SEP 11 1917 


©CI.A470994 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Flower of Gold 7 

II. Dream Places 21 

III. The Human Equation 31 

IV. The April Woods 42 

V. Observation 55 

VI. Experience 67 

VII. Sunset Pass 77 

VIII. At the Desert^s Edge .... 92 

IX. Undercurrents 109 

X. The Ride 121 

XI. Dawn Light 139 

XII. The Painted Desert 153 

XIII. The Eternal Feminine 166 

XIV. Antagonisms 177 

XV. The Storm 190 

XVI. After Effects 205 

XVII. Mistakes 223 

XVIII. The Indian Village 238 

XIX. Readjustments 255 

XX. Understanding 268 


( 5 ) 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Vera^s Movement had been too 
Quick Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Billy Gave an Upward Leap ... 50 

A Second Time the Indian Picked 
UP Bettina 146 

The Great Mass Wriggled and 
Curved 253 


( 6 ) 


The Camp Fire Girls on the 
Edge of tke Desert 


CHAPTER I 
Flower of Gold 

T he last flames of the camp fire were 
slowly dying. But, as the sun 
was sinking, the little space in the 
woods surrounding the fiire was lit with the 
color of flame. 

A girl sat there alone in her ceremonial 
camp Are dress. A band of bright gold 
braid bound her head. One could learn 
from the insignia on her costume that she 
was already a torch bearer. Above the 
orange and red of the flame was the touch 
of white in her emblem, portraying the 
ascending smoke. She was like a guardian 
spirit of the fire. 

Perhaps she may have been dreaming or 
merely repeating something aloud to her- 
self. For, seated on the ground, the girl was 
( 7 ) 


8 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


leaning forward with her chin resting in her 
hand, and, although her eyes were closed, 
a book lay open in her lap. Between the 
leaves of the book was a sheet of paper 
upon which some lines were written in lead 
pencil. Here and there a word was marked 
out and another inserted in its place. 

Finally the camp fire girl, unclosing her 
eyes, picked up this paper and, after first 
glancing around to be sure that the trees 
and grass about her had no ears read aloud 
in a low voice : 

In the moon of the peach blossoms, 

Towards the land of the setting sun, 

Ghosts of old camp fires keep calling; 

Camp fires whose race has been run. 

I can see the sands of the desert; 

I can hear strange desert cries; 

And ever my thoughts go homing 
To a tent under desert skies. 

^^Bettina,’^ a voice called. 

And, like a flash, the girl in the camp fire 
dress, leaning over, dropped the paper with 
her poem upon it into the fire.’^ 

Polly, I am here under our pine trees,” 
she called back. 


FLOWER OF GOLD 


9 


Then, getting up, she stood with her back 
to the sun. She had yellow-brown hair 
which looked gold in this light, a slender 
figure and delicate features, and must have 
been about sixteen. 

The girl who joined her was a complete 
contrast. Since they were in the woods 
together, one might have been thought a 
gypsy and the other, except for her dress, 
some Norse maiden who had stepped forth 
from Scandinavian mythology. 

The younger girl was small and had dark 
hair falling to her shoulders. Her eyes 
were black and her color brilliant. She 
was wearing a short skirt, a red sweater 
and a black velvet tarn o’shanter, while 
over her arm she carried a long gray cloak. 

'^How could you come out here alone, 
Bettina?’’ she demanded reproachfuUy, 
marching forward as soon as she appeared 
upon the scene and throwing the coat about 
the other girFs shoulders. 

^^As soon as our Camp Fire girls had dis- 
appeared mother asked me what had 
become of you, aiid I have been looking for 
you ever since. It must have been an 
hour ago? What makes you such a goose?’’ 


10 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


She spoke straightforwardly but with- 
out ill nature; so the older girl only laughed 
and shook her head. 

am accustomed to being called a 
dreamer, Polly, cousin of mine, and a good 
many other things by my family, but not 
a goose. Still, I expect you are right.’’ 

She put her arm across her cousin’s 
shoulder. 

“When the girls were getting ready to go 
I slipped out here to the woods by myself. 
I was tired and wanted to be alone for a 
little while, but I should have told some 
one. Has Aunt Mollie worried about me? 
I built a fire, so I was not cold.” 

Polly glanced back at the d3dng flames, as 
the two girls started for home. 

“Your fire does not appear very warm- 
ing,” she answered bluntly. “And mother 
was worrying. As you came to us, Bettina, 
because you were not well, naturally we 
feel responsible. But I suppose you weer 
reading or writing, or else in the clouds. 
Funny why people in the clouds always 
wish to inhabit them alone. There ought 
to be room in the clouds for compianons as 
well as in other places.” 


FLOWER OF GOLD 


11 


The two girls were walking now arm in 
arm through a small pine woods in New 
Hampshire, just as another Polly and 
Betty had walked a good many years before. 
But these two girls — ^althou^ their names 
were alike, and although they too were 
members of a Sunrise Hill Camp Fire Club — 
were utterly unlike the former ones in 
temperament and experience. 

Bettina was the daughter of Betty Ash- 
ton and Anthony Graham. After her 
father had served his state as Governor for 
two terms, he had been sent as United 
States senator to Washington, where the 
family had since been living, coming back 
home to New Hampshire only for occasional 
summer vacations. 

Yet now it was April and Bettina was 
on her way to the old Webster farmhouse 
which stood, as it always had, not far from 
the first Sunrise Hill Camp. 

In reality she and Polly Webster were 
not cousins, since PoUy was Mollie O’Neill^s 
oldest child and named for her famous aunt; 
but the friendship between the mothers 
and the families was so great that it had 
passed into an intimacy closer in this world 


12 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


many times than the intimacies of relation- 
ship. For since Polly O^Neill, who was 
now Mrs. Richard Burton, traveled a great 
part of the year, because of her own and her 
husband^s profession, and because of her 
fondness for Europe, MoUie and Betty, 
now Mrs. Webster and Mrs. Graham, 
had grown to depend more on each other 
than in their girlhood days. So, when 
the spring came, and Bettina was not 
well in Washington, she hc^d been sent 
at once to MoUie Webster’s home and 
MoUie’s care. 

The girls walked quickly, as it was nearly 
dusk; PoUy with the ease and swiftness of 
a girl who had been brought up in the 
country, and Bettina nearly as easily, yet 
with a different kind of grace. For there 
are persons who seem to be able to move 
with almost no effort, and their shy fleetness 
is characteristic of certain temperaments. 
In almost aU cases you wiU find it among 
persons who have deep emotions but strange 
reserves. 

Bettina Graham talked very little and 
perhaps this alone made her unusual among 
girls. 


FLOWER OF GOLD 


13 


After a fev/ further moments of silence on 
her part, Polly glanced up at her. 

It is curious, Bettina, that no one of your 
names suits you. You were called Bettina 
and ^Little Princess' when you were a tiny 
girl and now you are taller than your 
mother or any of us. ^Tall Princess' 
would be a better title at present. Even your 
Camp Fire name is too difficult to say — 
^Anacaona,' Flower of Gold — though I sup- 
pose the meaning is charming. But I am 
too matter-of-fact a person to hke anything 
so fanciful." 

An elusive sense of humor may some- 
times hide behind reserve, which served 
Bettina now and then not to take Polly too 
seriously. 

am afraid nothing altogether suits 
about me, " she returned, smiling, however, 
and not speaking as if she were sorry for 
herself. ^^At least, I fear that is what my 
mother sometimes thinks, although she is 
good enough to try to conceal the fact. I 
am a disappointment to her. Here I am 
nearly sixteen and supposed to come out 
in society in another two or three years — 
and with a mother who is almost the most 


14 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


popular woman in Washington. Yet I 
hate even to appear at one of our own small 
tea parties. I never can think of a single 
thing to say to strangers. The truth is, 
Polly, one of the reasons I was not well this 
spring was because mother wished me to 
help her entertain more and I dreaded it. 
It is such peace to be here in these quiet 
woods.’’ 

Then both girls paused for a moment. 

The woods were no longer still. 

Some one was walking toward them — a 
young fellow who kept striking at the trees 
and shrubs with a small stick he held in his 
hand. He was singing in a charming tenor 
voice, but stopped, took off his hat and 
bowed almost too gracefully to the two 
girls. 

Hello!” Polly said, indifferent but 
friendly enough. 

Bettina scarcely moved her head. She 
flushed a little though as the young man 
passed, but did not speak u;ntil he was out 
of sight. 

wish I might have had my visit with- 
out any other guest. I don’t like Ralph 
Marshall.” And then, ^^but please do tell 


FLOWER OF GOLD 


15 


me at once, Polly. I have been realizing 
ever since you joined me that you had 
more news. All day I have been feeling it 
in the atmosphere. You have had another 
letter.” 

Nodding, Polly slipped her hand into 
her pocket. 

^^You do know about things, Bettina, 
before they happen. It is what everybody 
says about you, but please don’t guess 
about my future, I prefer not knowing till 
the time comes.” 

She took out the letter and her eyes were 
brilliant. 

Yes, Xante has written again; the letter 
is addressed to me, but is for both of us. 
She says we are to talk over her plan to our 
families at once and that of course they will 
disapprove as they always have disapproved 
of everything she has ever suggested or 
done. But, just the same, we are to make 
them agree finally. She says we must — 
even if she has to come home and then go 
from here to Washington to argue the 
question.” 

^^It is too like what one has dreamed of 
to come true,” Bettina began, and then 


16 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


stopped because Polly had taken her by 
both shoulders and was shaking her, 

^^The things that Tante plans always 
come true, no matter how everybody else 
opposes them. That is one of the blessed 
facts about her. Ever since I can remember 
she had been more than a fairy godmother 
to us.’^ And Polly’s face showed that 
there was one person in the world about 
whom she was not matter-of-fact. Indeed, 
no one understood — not even Polly herself 
how much hero worship she felt for her 
mother’s famous sister. 

But they were nearly at home. Lights 
were shining through the windows of the 
living room at the big farm, and on the 
veranda two persons were waiting. 

^^Let us not speak of the plan until after 
tea,” Polly whispered, as her father and 
mother walked forward to meet them. 

Polly slipped her hand in her father’s and 
they went swinging along hand in hand back 
to the house. 

Mrs. Webster walked more slowly with 
Bettina keeping beside her. She was stiU 
unchanged from our MoUie O’Neill, except 
that there were a few gray hairs which had 


FLOWER OF GOLD 


17 


come when her children were ill. She was 
plump, of course, but then soon after her 
marriage MoUie had settled down to the 
serenities of hfe, and they had kept her 
eyes as blue and her skin as soft and rose- 
colored as ever. 

She enjoyed being solicitous about some 
one’s health and at present was much con- 
cerned about Bettina’s. But she was more 
concerned later because, when supper time 
arrived, one of her sons had not come in. 
And this was Billy Webster, who was not in 
the least hke his father — the Billy Webster 
of other days. This Billy was always in the 
habit of doing all the things he should not, 
and Dan, all the things he should. And 
MoUie might have remembered that this 
difference in her twin sons was not unlike 
her own and her sister’s behavior in other 
days. But they had had no father to guide 
them and her husband was strict with his 
sons. 

Ralph MarshaU — the other visitor at the 
farm whom the girls had passed in the 
woods — was having dinner with other 
friends, and for this Bettina at least was 
grateful. 


18 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Yet the meal was not so agreeable as 
usual. Bettina and Polly were too silent 
and too absorbed, Mrs. Webster was plainly 
nervous and Dan, who was hke her in almost 
every way, shared her emotion. 

^Ht would not be a propitious evening 
for persuading her father to see things as 
she wished him to,^^ Polly thought. But 
Billy was always the family difficulty. 

Half an hour later he had not yet appeared 
in the library. Neither had Polly or Bet- 
tina broached the subject on both their 
minds, although Polly sat on the arm of her 
father’s chair reading the same book with 
him. 

Better than any one, she understood her 
father. He would not show anxiety; but 
until Billy came in he would not be able to 
give his attention to anything else, and his 
reading was only a pretense. 

Then, just a few moments after half-past 
eight, there was an unexpected noise along 
the drive leading up to the front door. 

Polly reached the window first. She 
could see the fights of an approaching auto- 
mobile which, a moment later, stopped at 
the foot of their steps. 


FLOWER OF GOLD 


19 


To her amazement her small brother, 
who had been at home but a few hours 
before, stepped out of the car with a suit- 
case in his hand. The next instant some 
one following ran in ahead of Billy. 

Polly reached the front door in time to 
open it for their visitor; but, by this time 
the family was in the hall, and the figure 
swept by Polly to throw her arms about her 
mother^s neck. 

“MoUie O’NeiU, are you glad to see me? 
I have just traveled hundreds of miles until 
I am nearly dead. Yes, 1 know I ought to 
have telegraphed, but IVe something I 
want to talk to you about and I did not 
want you to know I was coming. You 
might have tried to stop me, Richard did 
try.'' 

Then she stopped embracing Mrs. Web- 
ster and kissed PoUy and Bettina and Dan 
and Mr. Webster — ^all as gaily and quickly 
as possible. 

Of course it was PoUy O'Neill — Mrs. 
Richard Burton — for no one else had such 
a fashion of turning up at unexpected 
moments. 

But, Tante, we have not even mentioned 


20 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


your scheme — your letter only arrived 
today,” Polly Webster said aloud. 

Mrs. Webster shook her head and laughed 
at the same time. 

course you want to do something 
impossible, Polly O’Neill Burton, but I 
am glad to see you for any reason. It has 
been two years since you were here. Where 
did you find my Billy?” 

A boy of about fourteen, small for his 
age and with fair hair and blue eyes, had 
by this time slipped quietly in and put down 
the suitcase. He had spoken to no one. 

Where did I find BiUy?” PoUy was 
moving toward the big living room. 
found him because he and I are birds of a 
feather, which means we know where to 
look for each other.” 


CHAPTER II 


Dream Places 

isn’t so impracticable as you think, 
I Mr. WiUiam Webster,” said Polly 

^ O’NeiU Burton from the depth of a 
big camp chair. 

It was a warm April afternon and tea 
was being served out under the elms not far 
from the Webster house. MoUie Webster 
sat before a big wicker table covered with 
the Webster tea service and china over a 
hundT-ed years old. 

Dan Webster, who was a big, dark- 
haired feUow with blue eyes and his mother’s 
sweet nature, was carrying about teacups. 
He was followed by Ralph Marshall, who 
was spending a spring vacation from col- 
lege at the Webster farm, and was now 
making himself useful by serving the hot 
muffins and cakes. 

Billy Webster sat apart from the others 
reading, while Bettina and Polly were on 
either side of Mrs. Burton’s camp chair; 

(21) 


22 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


and Mr. Webster stood upright, smiling 
down on its occupant. 

^^When was there anything that Polly 
O’Neill wanted from her girlhood up that 
wasn’t practical according to her view?” 
he demanded. 

The Polly in the camp chair reached up 
and took hold of his hand. 

“Do sit down, William, I suppose I must 
call you by that bugbear of a name, since 
we have another Billy and are getting so 
hopelessly old. We shall have to find 
another name for Polly as well, now that 
we are going to be together for a long time.” 
And having persuaded her brother-in-law 
to sit down beside her, the older Polly 
pulled one of the younger’s curls, “Why not 
Peggy, ^Peg o’ My Heart,’ after the charm- 
ing play? But see here, William, I have 
persuaded my husband to come around to 
my way of thinking, and he is not an easy 
person to manage. 

“Although she won’t confess it, Mollie 
is half persuaded; and when I can lead you 
to the light, then I must see Betty and 
Anthony. But, seriously, why not? It 
will be a wonderful experience for the girls 


DREAM PLACES 


23 


and one we shall never forget in this hfe 
and perhaps in another. I have to spend a 
year outdoors. For that length of time I 
am not to be allowed to act for a single 
night. Richard must, of course, go on with 
his engagements. Now I never am able to 
see my family or my friends when I am 
working and I regret it a great deal more 
than any of you realize. 

Instead of being sent off somewhere 
with my maid to a horrid hotel, where I 
shall probably die of the blues and the lone- 
somes, as I did once years ago before Bobbin 
and Richard rescued me, why won^t all of 
you or some of you come and camp in the 
desert with me?’^ 

Polly’s cheeks were glowing with two 
bright spots of color and her eyes darkening 
as they always did in moments of excite- 
ment or pleading. She had forgotten the 
sofa pillows back of her, upon which she was 
supposed to recline, hke an invalid, and had 
raised herself upright in her chair with one 
foot twisted up under her. 

Mrs. Richard Burton was stiU as slender 
as Polly O’NeiU had been, but, unlike 
MoUie, her black hair had no gray in it. 


24 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Her years of work and success had kept her 
extraordinarily young; but then she had 
that vivid quality which keeps people from 
ever growing old. She was not beautiful 
and never had been, even as a girl; yet 
her face was extraordinarily fascinating 
and her voice had an almost magic quality 
in it, which had come from her long years of 
training as an actress. 

Everybody watched her now, as they 
always did whenever she talked. 

come with pleasure, Mrs. Burton,’^ 
Ralph Marshall answered, walking over 
toward her chair with his offerings from 
the tea table. 

Looking at him in a friendly but half crit- 
ical fashion, she shook her head. Her 
sister had explained that Ralph was a 
college student and the son of one of the 
richest men in the state, who was also a 
friend of her husband^s and of Senator 
Graham^s. 

“Sorry, but this is a Camp Fire girls^ 
expedition and no male persons are allowed 
except relatives,” Mrs. Burton returned 
good-naturedly. 

Then, moving her head in order to speak 


DREAM PLACES 


25 


to her sister, she observed Ralph drop a 
small piece of paper into Bettina’s lap. 
Also she saw Bettina flush as her hand 
closed quickly over it. 

“You know, Mollie, years ago when we 
started our Sunrise Camp Fire club we 
began to wish then that we might live out- 
doors some day in a climate where it would 
be possible the whole year through. Well, 
it has taken half a lifetime to accomphsh, 
but the idea is practical now. And even 
if we have become somewhat elderly Camp 
Fire girls, your Polly and Bettina’s Betty 
are not. Then I want to ask some other 
girls — Dick and Esther^s two daughters — 
enough to "form another Sunrise Hill 
club.’’ 

“But it is the most extravagant project I 
ever heard of in my life, Polly,” Mrs. 
Webster remonstrated. “I suppose you 
haven’t the shadow of an idea what it may 
cost to have a dozen young persons living 
with you in a tent in Arizona, or half a 
dozen tents. It all sounds too hot and 
terrifying to me for anything. Please do 
forget all about it, my dear, or we shall all 
be so uncomfortable, ” she ended plaintively. 


26 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


as if there were no escape had her twin 
sister made up her mind. 

The others laughed. 

^^But you are not to come with us, MoUie, 
if you don't like the idea, and perhaps you 
would be frightened. Once years ago, I 
spent a night alone near the desert and I 
have never forgotten the wonder of it. But 
you will let me have Polly with me for the 
summer at least, and perhaps the boys. 
The children have never been away from 
New England and it will be a part of their 
education to see this western country of 
ours." 

At a short distance from the family group 
Billy Webster had suddenly ceased reading. 
He was white and deUcate looking for a 
country boy. 

Under no circumstances can the boys go 
with you, Polly, " Mr.Webster said positively. 

And Polly Webster, although appreciating 
her own selfishness, gave a sigh of relief. 
This speech of her father's gratified the 
desire of her own heart, since it meant 
that she was to be allowed to go. 

But the older Polly seemed not to have 
heard. 


DREAM PLACES 


27 


'‘Yes, I do know in a way what it will 
cost,” she argued. "At least, Richard 
says I can perfectly afford it and he looks 
after the money we both earn. Besides, 
MoUie dear, as I have no children of my 
own, I don^t see why I can^t do for yours 
and a few others now and then.” 

And Mollie, at the moment, said nothing 
more, for Polly’s one baby had died a few 
years before, 

"I have written to Esther in Boston that 
I want her two daughters, and I am going 
to Washington to see Betty as soon as I am 
strong enough.” 

Then she turned to Bettina. Since the 
beginning of their conversation Bettina had 
not spoken. Polly scarcely remembered 
her making a dozen speeches since her 
arrival, unless they were answers to ques- 
tions. As she had been talking all her life 
whenever there was the least opportunity, 
Polly Burton feared that she was not going 
to be able to understand Bettina. Then 
Betty had written such odd letters about 
her only daughter, as if she herself did not 
altogether understand her. 

But Betty’s letters had placed Bettina 


28 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


on a kind of pedestal, suggesting that she 
hved in a finer, purer atmosphere than other 
girls. Mrs. Burton was not so sure. At 
this moment she did not like the fashion in 
which Bettina had received a mysterious 
note from Ralph Marshall. It looked 
secretive. And Bettina was still flushed 
and embarrassed. 

Polly felt a sudden qualm. After all, she 
knew httle about girls, and if anything 
happened to Betty^s or Mollie^s daughter 
ivhile under her care, would she not always 
feel responsible? 

Bettina at this instant suddenly jumped 
up, her face growing warm and lovely as 
she started running across the grass lawn 
like a graceful child. 

The next moment, forgetting her years and 
everything else, Mrs. Burton fled after her. 

For they had both discovered almost 
simultaneously that a carriage was entering 
the gate which divided the Webster farm 
from the grounds about the house. And 
out of the carriage a handkerchief was 
being riotously waved. 

At their approach the carriage stopped 
and a woman alighted. 


DREAM PLACES 


29 


She put her hands on Bettina^s shoulders 
kissing her on both cheeks. 

'^You are looking better, darling.’^ 

Then she turned. 

“Polly O^Neill, didn^t you know I would 
come from Washington as soon as I learned 
you were in this part of the world? How 
can you look so exactly like you always did 
as a girl, in spite of your age and honors? 
You are thin as a rail.^^ 

It was Betty Ashton — Mrs. Anthony 
Graham — exquisitely dressed and perhaps 
more beautiful than ever. She was now 
recognized as one of the loveliest women in 
Washington; indeed in the United States. 

Yet she and the reaUy great actress 
came gaily walking across the lawn, with 
their arms about each other like school girls. 

“Don’t tell me you think I have gained 
a pound, PoUy O’Neill Burton, or I shall 
never forgive you, though of course I know 
1 have gained twenty. How did I find out 
you were here? Why, Bettina telegraphed 
me. Isn’t she lovely. She said you had 
some wonderful scheme on hand. Who- 
ever saw Polly without a problem. Have 
your own way, dear, as far as I am con- 


30 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


cerned. It isn^t such a bad way as it 
sometimes seems. But I do wish you 
looked stronger.” 

Then MoUie joined her sister and friend. 


CHAPTER III 


The Human Equation 

I N an unscientific fashion Mrs. Burton 
was searching for her purse. She had 
peered in the bureau drawers, in her 
dismantled trunk, and was now sitting on 
the edge of her bed trying mentally to 
discover the lost object. 

Since her arrival at her sister’s home 
when had she last seen her pocketbook 
and for what purpose had she used it? 

Ordinarily Mrs. Burton traveled with a 
maid, who attended to as many details of 
life for her as were possible, in order that 
she might save her strength for her work. 
Also because PoUy Burton was not much 
more dependable about small matters than 
PoUy O’Neill had been. But at present 
Marie was away on a holiday, trying to 
reconcile herself to the prospect of a year 
of hfe in the wilderness, instead of in hotels, 
or in Mr. and Mrs. Burton’s New York 
city apartment, where they lived when 
they were acting in New York. 

( 31 ) 


32 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


As Polly with her usual impetuosity had 
decided to follow her letter to her niece a 
few hours after the letter was written, 
there had been no opportunity to find 
another maid. Not that one was in the 
least useful or desirable in MoUie^s house. 
Mrs. Burton was not spoiled into the idea 
of thinking that she required the services 
of a maid except when she was at work. 

However, at present she was still in her 
dressing gown and with her bed unmade. 
Mollie always insisted that her sister have 
her breakfast in bed during the first of her 
visit and until she was entirely rested. 
It was now nine o’clock. The early 
search for the pocketbook was really due 
to this fact. At any moment the other 
Polly, whom the family were now struggling 
to learn to call Peggy, might appear to 
offer her aid and to help make the bed. 

This morning visit represented the one 
opportunity when she and her adored Tante 
might have a talk without being interrupted. 

And this was why Mrs. Burton had been 
searching for her money. For here was 
her chance for bestowing a gift upon her 
namesake, and through her upon Dan and 


THE HUMAN EQUATION 33 


BiUy, without family discussion or objec- 
tion. Always she looked forward to this 
moment as one of the chief pleasures of 
her visit to her sister. 

Not that MoUie and her husband were 
poor. They were unusually prosperous, 
owning one of the best farms in New 
England. But they did not have money 
for unnecessary things. Indeed, no matter 
what they might have had, they would 
never have permitted it to be used extrav- 
agantly. Therefore Peggy — and her 
adopted name will be used henceforth, since 
no one, not even the public, could call her 
distinguished aunt by any name save Polly 
Burton — ^and her brothers rarely had much 
money of their own to spend. Tante, 
however, was a delightfully extravagant 
person, who never had forgotten how poor 
she used to be herself, and how many 
impossible things she had then wished 
for. 

Therefore, a few moments later, when 
Peggy knocked at her door, an abstracted 
voice bade her enter. For the purse had 
not even been mentally found. Yet, as 
far as she could recall, Polly thought she 


34 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


had put it in her top bureau drawer. There 
at present, however, it was not. 

She lifted her eyes as her niece came in. 

^ Peggy of my Heart,’ look in the bureau 
drawer and find my pocketbook,” she began 
nonchalantly, knowing that it was a wise 
method to pursue in persuading another 
person to find a lost treasure. Better to 
begin by not confusing the searcher with 
the sense of loss. 

So Peggy looked for five minutes and, 
being a matter-of-fact person, she looked 
thoroughly. 

^Ht isn’t here,” she announced, with 
the conviction characteristic of her. 

Her aunt waved a vague hand. 

'^Be sure to look everywhere, dear.” 

And Peggy conscientiously looked, Mrs. 
Polly Burton assisting with less energy. 

But by and by, when both of them were 
exhausted from the most fatiguing occu- 
pation in the world — searching for and not 
finding a desired object — they sat down on 
opposite sides of the bed, facing each 
other. 

^^How much money did you have in 
your purse, Tante?” Peggy demanded, 


THE HUMAN EQUATION 35 


speaking with the severity each member 
of her family and her intimate friends 
employed in discussing practical matters 
with the famous but sometimes erratic 
lady. 

^^A hundred dollars/' Polly returned 
with emphasis. Only yesterday afternoon 
when we came in from tea I counted the 
money carefully and then thought I put 
the purse in the top drawer. Afterwards 
I was out of my room until about ten 
o'clock last night and then your mother 
and Aunt Betty and I came up here and 
talked. 

Peggy frowned. 

It amused her aunt to watch her. Peggy 
had so much the look of her father — the 
boy with whom PoUy O'Neill had used 
to have so many quarrels — in spite of the 
difference in their coloring. If Peggy was 
as obstinate as he had been, it was to be 
hoped that aunt and niece would have few 
differences of opinion. 

But Peggy's attention at present was 
concentrated on the lost money. 

'^Mother will be terribly distressed when 
she hears, for it must have been one of the 


36 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


servants. And we have had all of them a 
long time.’^ 

^^Oh, for goodness sake, it does not mat- 
ter so much as all that.^^ Polly spoke like 
an embarrassed girl. “And in any case 
please don’t teU mother.” 

“She will not only be worried but vexed 
with me as weU. Somehow I must have 
been careless, and there is nothing worse, 
I think, than holding other people respon- 
sible for one’s carelessness. The money 
will turn up or else I’ll write Uncle Richard.” 

But Peggy was not so easily diverted 
from an idea or a purpose. 

There was a characteristic hne from her 
forehead to the end of her short, straight 
nose. Also she had a fashion of lifting her 
head and looking fearlessly ahead, as if 
she were contemplating something in the 
outside world, when in reality she was only 
thinking. 

“Billy might help us,” she said suddenly. 
“He knows all the servants on the place 
and they like him better than they do the 
rest of us.” 

And, without waiting for her aunt’s 
consent, Peggy disappeared. 


THE HUMAN EQUATION 37 


She was gone a long time — so long that 
Mrs. Burton grew annoyed. She made her 
own bed and made it extremely well, having 
never forgotten this part of her Camp Fire 
education. She also wrote a note to her 
husband, who was on a tour in the West. 
She was just contemplating dressing and 
joining the others downstairs when Peggy 
came back. Billy was with her, and Billy 
bore the lost pocketbook. 

His expression was odd, but it was Peggy 
about whom Polly felt suddenly frightened. 
Her usually brilliant color was gone, and 
her lips were in a hard line. 

Billy took your purse,” and then in a 
queer voice, ^^but please make him explain 

I cannot.” 

BiUy laid the purse gently on his aunt’s 
knee and looked directly at her. 

It chanced that Polly was sitting in a 
tall chair so that her eyes were on a level 
with the boy’s. 

It had always been Polly’s impression 
that Billy was her favorite of her sister’s 
children; perhaps because he was not the 
favorite with his mother or father. And 
then undeniably he was a problem. 


38 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


took your pocketbook, Tante/’ 

He spoke with a little embarrassment — 
not a great deal. “I needed some money 
at once and knew you would give it to 
me later. There was no chance to ask. 
You were downstairs and when I came 
up afterwards to tell you mother and Aunt 
Betty were in here and I did not wish them 
to know.’’ 

There was a slight exclamation of con- 
sternation and shame from Peggy, but 
Mrs. Burton was speechless. 

She was not a moralist — ^that is, it was 
difficult for her to know how to preach. 
But would preaching or anything she could 
say make Billy understand the wrong he 
had done? His mother and father were 
the most punctilious people in the world? 
What must they not have said to him in 
times past? He was not a child. 

am sorry, Billy; it wasn’t square,” 
Polly said finally, but looking and feehng 
more ashamed than the boy himself appar- 
ently did. 

Billy’s blue eyes were puzzled and regret- 
ful, but not conscience-smitten. 

^^You intended to persuade father to 


THE HUMAN EQUATION 39 


take me west with you and I would rather 
have gone than anything in the world/’ he 
remarked slowly in reply. '^Now you 
don’t want me to go because you are 
afraid of the responsibility I would be, 
and you don’t trust me.” 

He did not put this as a question. He 
was making a statement. Nevertheless 
his aunt answered, ^^Yes.” 

Then, without any further explanation 
and without even asking to be forgiven, 
Billy walked out of the room. 

^^He is the queerest boy in the world,” 
Peggy said in distressed tones when the 
door closed; ^^and worries mother and 
father nearly to death. No one of us 
understands him. He does whatever he 
likes and then accepts his punishment 
without a word. He does not like the farm 
as Dan and I do, and has never been a 
hundred miles away. Yet he would rather 
do a horrid thing like this and so spoil 
his chance for going west with you. Father 
might have given in.” 

PoUy arose. Let’s not talk about it. 
Run downstairs, dear; I am going to put 
on my riding habit. Will you see if the 


40 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


horses will be ready at eleven? Aunt 
Betty and I are going to ride over the 
country together. I can’t walk very far 
and it is our best chance for discovering 
our old haunts. I knew every inch of this 
country once as a girl and want to see our 
old Sunrise Hill cabin again. Don’t speak 
of what has happened.” 

Then as Peggy started to leave, her aunt 
thrust the delayed gifts for herself and Dan 
into her hand. They were two ten-doUar 
biUs. 

Afterwards when Peggy had gone, 
she nervously counted over her money; 
Billy had taken only ten dollars — her usual 
gift to him. For even this she was thankful. 
But for what purpose had the boy needed 
money in such a hurry? And why had she 
discovered him on the night of her arrival 
waiting alone at the side of the road when 
he should have been at home with his 
family? 

Well, perhaps it was best to have found 
out Billy’s peculiarities before taking him 
away with her. Nevertheless, Mrs. Burton 
was profoundly sorry. Certainly the boy 
needed help of some kind. Yet she would 


THE HUMAN EQUATION 41 


probably not be equal to the problem of 
suddenly adopting a large and nearly grown- 
up family of girls. 

Fools rush in/^ Polly smiled and then 
sighed. ^^But, after all, I wonT have an 
opportunity for worrying over my own 
health very often.” 

Then she went down to the living room. 


CHAPTER IV 


The April Woods 

Again the blackbirds sing; the streams 
Wake, laughing, from their winter dreams, 

And tremble in the April showers 
The tassels of the maple flowers/’ 

P OLLY recited Whittier^s verse with a 
wistful inflection in her voice that 
made her companion turn from look- 
ing at the scenery to gaze at her. 

^^Don^t make a cheerful poem sound hke 
a lament for all the lost springs in the world, 
PoUy darlint,^’ Betty Graham pleaded. 

declare you become more of a fascinator 
the older you grow. But I suppose that is 
a part of your genius. Funny we didn’t 
know you were a genius in the old Sunrise 
HiU Camp Fire days, and only thought you 
were ^fee’ as the Irish say. Queer there 
is another Camp Fire organization of girls 
now, with our old title and with MoUie 
Webster for their guardian! Ah well, times 
do change, though I know that is not an 
original remark.” 


( 42 ) 


THE APRIL WOODS 


43 


PoUy laughed. The two friends were 
cantering along side by side through a lane 
in the New Hampshire woods. They were 
on their way to see the old cabin where 
long ago they had lived and worked together 
with nearly a dozen other girls for a happy 
year. 

The riding was difficult because the road 
was still muddy from spring rains, but 
Polly rode frequently in Central Park when 
she happened to be in New York City and 
Betty, in an effort to keep her figure, had 
daily horseback exercise in Washington. 
At present they were actually paying more 
attention to each other’s conversation than 
to their horses. 

And here I am adopting some of Mollie’s 
Camp Fire responsibilities without being 
half so well equal to them as she is. Do 
you think my scheme of taking a few of her 
Camp Fire girls and some of my own to 
camp on the edge of the Painted Desert 
with me a mad scheme, Betty? Of course, 
I have to see the girls first and choose the 
ones I wish and then argue the matter with 
their parents. You and Anthony are going 
to allow me to have Bettina?’^ 


44 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Involuntarily both women had slowed 
down their horses. 

'^We cannot help it very well, Polly/’ 
Mrs. Graham replied. ^^Bettina has 
thought of nothing else and dreamed of 
nothing else since you first wrote of your 
plan to her and to Polly — oh, to Peggy, I 
mean. I do hate this business of two per- 
sons in one family having the same name. 
We have had trouble enough with the diffi- 
culty in our own family. Bettina has even 
written some charming verses about the 
desert, which she showed to me the night 
of my arrival. 

^^But I am afraid I shall never have any 
more influence over my daughter after she 
has been with you, dear. Truth is, Bettina 
and I adore each other but are not in the 
least ahke. And Anthony says I must 
give Bettina the chance to do the thing she 
beheves she would love. She does not care 
in the least for society or many people, and 
it is so hard for me to understand,” Betty 
Graham ended wistfully. 

But in return her beloved friend only 
laughed. ‘^Nonsense, Betty; we are not 
all born beauties and belles, as you were. 


THE APRIL WOODS 


45 


Oh, yes, I do think your Bettina is very 
pretty, so donT get your mother bird 
feathers ruffled. But I don’t think ^the 
httle Princess’ is the beauty her mother 
was and is.” Then seriously, '^Of course 
I shall do my best to look after your 
daughter, Betty dear, if anything should — ” 
she hesitated. 

Her friend answered gravely, '^Of course 
her father and I wiU both understand. But 
Bettina knows nothing of the actual world. 
She has hved in her ambitions and dreams. 
Hard as it is for us, she must take her own 
risks and learn her own lessons.” 

''If only you would come with me, Betty 
— you or Mollie. I may not be equal to the 
task alone,” PoUy suddenly announced, 
having felt another qualm at the task ahead 
of her. Then she laughed. 

"I have just had the funniest letter from 
Sylvia Wharton. You see, I wrote and 
asked Sylvia to take a year from her hos- 
pital work and come west to look after me. 
Doctor Sylvia flatly declines and suggests 
that she has more important things to do. 
Still, she has done a Sylviaesque thing! She 
proposes, or rather orders me, to take with 


46 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


me a young woman who started her hospital 
training and has broken down. She has 
recovered, but Sylvia thinks the change 
will help her. Also, she says the young 
woman is particularly weU adapted for 
looking after all of us. 

^^She writes that I won^t need a maid and 
am to leave poor Marie in New York. She 
is right, I expect, about Marie, but I won’t 
do that. However, I don’t think it will be 
a bad idea, if the young woman Sylvia 
wishes me to take is fairly agreeable. She 
can teach my Camp Fire girls first-aid 
requirements and then, if any one is ill, 
help in an emergency.” 

Mrs. Betty Graham nodded her hand- 
some head. 

Sylvia is always sensible and has been 
from her youth up, in contrast to you, dear. 
However, don’t think that you and your 
girls are to be left in peace in your desert 
camp, Polly. I cannot go along with you 
at present, but I wouldn’t miss the experi- 
ence of being with you for a time for a year 
of every-day fife. So I’ll turn up some 
time when you least expect me — ^and I shall 
bring my Tony. You haven’t invited my 


THE APRIL WOODS 


47 


son to your camp, Polly; are you taking 
Dan and Billy?’’ 

For the second time Mrs. Burton’s expres- 
sion changed to one of anxiety. “I wish 
I knew whether to ask your advice about 
something, Betty.” 

But, before she had finished, her horse 
stumbled in a hole ahead and, becoming 
frightened, started to run. 

First Polly felt herself being thrown 
violently forward, then tilted to one side, 
then backward and forward again. How- 
ever, she had no idea of being frightened 
and, although her saddle girth was broken, 
she still held on. Really, the first thought 
flashing through her consciousness was the 
recollection of her sister MoUie’s parting 
words: 

^'Do please remember, Polly, that you 
are not young as you used to be. I don’t 
approve of this horseback riding for women 
of yours and Betty’s age. And I always 
feel more nervous about your getting into 
trouble than I do my own children. 

Then her own reply: Nonsense, Mollie; 
you always were a ^ ’fraid cat. ’ I expect to 
ride a bunking broncho for the next year, 


48 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


so I certainly ought to be able to manage 
one of William’s quiet steeds.” 

However, Polly Burton was becoming 
unable to manage one of William’s quiet 
steeds.” 

Although, by a firmer clutch on the reins, 
she had been able to keep herself in the 
saddle without its slipping off, yet her horse 
kept pounding ahead, paying not the least 
attention to her exhortations or her 
pulling. 

A difficulty was that the horse was often 
used for driving and had a less sensitive 
mouth than those to which its rider had been 
accustomed. 

However, the experience might be exhil- 
arating if the saddle did not slip off entirely, 
as the road lay straight ahead. The horse 
would stop when he grew tired. There 
was only one trouble to be particularly 
feared and that was the loss of one’s breath 
from a pain in the side which the hard awk- 
ward riding might bring on. 

The other horse had straightway been 
outdistanced. After one cry from Betty, 
Polly heard no other sound from her. 

But now the pain was coming which was 


THE APRIL WOODS 


49 


the trial of her life, and a sense of dizziness 
followed. 

Fortunately a little ahead, on a path that 
ran alongside the road, a boy and a girl 
were walking. Polly beheved she called to 
them, although they must have heard the 
noise of the runaway first. 

For Billy Webster moved only a few 
steps and then stood waiting for the horse 
to come opposite him. When it did he 
made an upward leap. Seizing the bridle 
he continued holding on to it until the horse, 
after running a few yards more, peacefully 
stopped as if this had been his intention aU 
along. 

However, before this instant, looking 
down upon her nephew, it seemed to Mrs. 
Burton that he was very inadequate to the 
task ahead of him, although she never had 
seen any one so calmly determined. 

When the horse ceased running Billy 
must also have hfted her down. The next 
thing she was conscious of was hearing him 
say: 

don^t think you need be frightened, 
Vera; she has not really fainted.’^ 

Then Mrs. Burton discovered that she 


« 



( 50 ) 


Billy Gave an Upward Leap 



THE APRIL WOODS 


51 


was seated on the ground with her back 
against a tree, and with her riding hat dan- 
gling rakishly over one eye. Above her a 
girl whom she had neyer seen before was 
anxiously bending. 

Without making an efiCort to speak until 
the pain in her side grew less severe and her 
breathing more natural, PoUy at once tried 
to straighten her hat. 

But Billy continued to talk as if nothing 
unusual had occurred and as if his aunt 
could give him her undivided attention. 

have been thinking the matter over, 
Tante, and I want to explain something to 
you, ’’ he said as he made a shght movement 
with his hand toward the girl. “This is 
Vera Lageloff, a friend of mine. I took 
your money before you had a chance to 
give it to me because Vera^s people needed 
it and I knew it would be useless to ask 
father. I hope you will pardon me. 1 
suppose it was not square. Vera^s father 
is one of my father’s farmers, who has been 
working a part of our land on shares. He 
has not been straight or industrious and 
father has asked him to go. Of course, he 
had to find some other place to go, but 


52 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


he had no money and there are several other 
children. Vera told me that he had a 
chance, if he could only get the money for 
a railroad ticket, but had to have it at once. 
I had been to their house the night I met 
you. I did not tell them at home, because 
father does not like my interfering with his 
working people. And he does not trust 
Vera’s father. I don’t trust him, either, 
but I don’t wish his children to suffer. Do 
you?” 

Billy had at last concluded his speech. 

While he was talking it occurred to his 
aunt, who was accustomed to having a good 
deal of attention paid to her health, and 
indeed to all her concerns, that her nephew 
was but little interested in her accident. 
But then he was never interested in any- 
thing which he considered unessential. 
Nevertheless, there was something about 
this youthful Billy Webster, which made 
him difficult to answer readily. If he was 
not going to become a socialist or an anarch- 
ist, at any rate he was a law unto himself. 

Yet his aunt did not clearly understand 
what point he was trying to make at the 
present moment. In reply she murmured 


THE APRIL WOODS 


53 


something about being sorry; but this was 
not the time for such a discussion. In any 
case, his father must, of course, know best. 

Then, strugghng to get on her feet again 
and finding the girl beside her trying to help, 
Mrs. Burton for the first time acknowl- 
edged their introduction. She scarcely 
looked at the girl, because Billy again took 
up the conversation and was more amazing 
this time than before. 

do hope you will take Vera to camp 
with you, Tante. She is a member of 
mother^s Camp Fire club and mother likes 
her. Besides, she ought to get away from 
her family.^’ 

BiUy’s effrontery or his belief in his own 
judgment affected his aunt curiously. She 
had never known anything like it before. 
However, she had seen but little of BiUy 
in the last few years, and before now he 
had appeared only as a shy, delicate boy. 

Fortunately, before having to reply one 
way or the other to his latest demand, Mrs. 
Burton observed Betty Graham riding up 
the road toward her as rapidly as her horse 
could travel. Betty's concern over her 
friend's experience and its possible unfortu- 


54 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


nate consequences was in striking contrast 
to the coldness and lack of interest of the 
younger generation. 

Afterwards, returning home a little later 
on an entirely subdued animal, Mrs. Burton 
regretted that she had not looked at Billy’s 
friend more carefully. At present she 
beheved she would hardly recognize the 
girl if they chanced to meet again. And 
undoubtedly the Russian girl and her 
nephew must be devoted friends. 


CHAPTER V 


Observation 

WO girls were standing on the rear 



platform of a big observation car 


^ that had left Chicago a number of 
hours before. 

They were charmingly dressed for travel 
— one in a brown corduroy coat and skirt, 
a cream-colored blouse and a soft brown 
felt hat, with a single cream-colored wing 
in it, and the other in blue. The first 
was a small, dark girl with a brilliant color, 
scarlet lips and black eyes. But little in 
the swiftly passing landscape seemed to 
escape her interest. 

The other girl was perhaps a year older 
and had light golden-brown hair. Her 
eyes were sometimes gray, sometimes blue 
and now and then faintly green, should she 
chance to be standing under a group of 
trees or surrounded with any green foliage. 
Her dress was hke that of her companion 
except for the difference in color. Her 


( 55 ) 


56 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


expression was less animated; her vision 
appeared to be not only an outward but 
an inward one. She saw the landscape 
before her with pleasure and yet had even 
greater pleasure in the reflections it brought 
to her mind. 

Finally, the train gave an imexpected 
lurch in making a wide curve, and she 
slipped her arm through her companion’s. 

Isn’t it heavenly, Peggy?” she de- 
manded. And then. “I know I am 
selfish, so please don’t reproach me; but 
sometimes I have wished that just you and 
I were going to camp with Tante. We 
have not been away very long, but we 
seem to be an odd combination.” 

The other girl laughed. 

“Traveling with a group of girls Tante 
has chosen, did you expect anything else? 
The oddness of our party has probably 
only begim, Bettina. You know Tante 
has a curious fashion of liking or dis- 
hking an individual for what he or she 
happens to be, without any reference to 
their circumstances. And she has selected 
her Camp Fire club in this way. I sup- 
pose when you become as famous as she 


OBSERVATION 


57 


is you can afford to do as you like/^ Peggy 
Webster concluded. 

In spite of the difference in their natures 
the two girls were devoted friends. 

Bettina now looked a little wistful. 

^^Tante does not like me much, does 
she, Peggy? Oh, I don’t mean that she 
is not fond of me, because I am my mother’s 
daughter and, for old associations, and she 
would do any kindness for me. But one 
knows when a person is attracted toward 
one without being told. Tante is much 
more interested in that queer Russian girl, 
Vera, and in the girl she brought with her 
from Chicago.” 

For a moment Peggy Webster continued 
to watch the landscape apparently sailing 
by. Then she answered. 

^^I think we had better go back to the 
others, Bettina, as it is nearly tea time. 
Yes, I agree with you that it does seem 
unfortimate that we girls start out by 
appearing to be so uncongenial. But per- 
haps our Camp Fire club life together wiU 
alter us. At least we wiU understand 
each other better after a few months of 
living together anyhow. Mother says that 


58 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


is one of the most important influences of 
the Camp Fire. You know it is supposed 
to teach us to put aside the conventional 
society idea and learn to care for each 
other as men sometimes do. We are all 
girls and, whatever our circumstances, have 
pretty much the same needs and ideals.’’ 

Then feeling her cheeks crimson because 
she feared that her words held a suggestion 
of preaching, Peggy turned and started to 
lead the way back into the observation 
car. Bettina, however, did not at once 
follow her. 

The rear hah of the observation train 
was occupied by the new Sunrise Hill 
Camp Fire club. Mrs. Polly Burton, the 
new Camp Fire guardian, sat by one of 
the windows, glancing out at the great 
grain fields through wliich their train was 
cutting its way like a mammoth thrashing 
machine. 

She was elegantly dressed in a tailored 
suit of dark blue cloth; and behind her 
hung a fur coat for use in case the weather 
should turn suddenly cold. Her bags and 
all her appurtenances of travel showed 
wealth and luxury, and yet, in spite of all 


OBSERVATION 


59 


this and of her distinguished reputation, 
the great lady herself looked fragile 
and subdued. Indeed, she bore a striking 
resemblance to the very Polly O’Neill who 
so often used to start out on a task in a 
sudden burst of enthusiasm, only to find 
later that she had scarcely the ability or 
strength to go on. 

Not alone did Bettina believe that the 
new club was an oddly assorted group! 

Only in Chicago had they actually begun 
their journey to the West together. 

Some time before, Mrs. Burton had left 
her sister’s home in New Hampshire and 
in Chicago joined her husband, who was 
playing there during the late spring season. 
A few days before, Mr. and Mrs. Webster 
had come on from their home to Chicago 
in order to chaperon the new group of 
Camp Fire girls that far along the way. 
There they had been joined by Mrs. Bur- 
ton and one other new club member besides 
Polly’s French maid, Marie. 

Marie had traveled with Polly everywhere 
since her marriage, having charge of her 
clothes — ^both her stage and personal ones 
— and striving, though vainly, to turn her 


60 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


mistress into the fashionable, conventional 
character it was impossible for her ever 
to be. 

At present Marie was hovering about, 
paying Polly small attentions which an- 
noyed her, and which she felt were not 
good for the intimacy she hoped to estab- 
lish with her Camp Fire girls. 

Personally she wished to forget her usual 
style of hfe — the fatigue, the excitement, 
even her own success — and to have the 
girls forget it. But Marie was a constant 
and persistent reminder of all these things. 
Yet when she had suggested to Marie that 
she remain behind, as she would dislike a 
western camp, Marie had burst into such 
French tears and such French protestations 
that Mrs. Burton, who was never very 
firm where her affections were concerned, 
had given in. 

Now Marie was really the most trying 
member of the ill-assorted party. 

‘'Do please go back to your own place 
and leave me alone, Marie,’' Mrs. Burton 
finally said, unable longer to conceal her 
irritation. “I am not -a hopeless invalid 
and, even if I were, I should not wish you 


OBSERVATION 


61 


to be constantly pushing cushions behind 
my back/^ 

Then, as Marie flounced off in a temper, 
Mrs. Burton laughed and sighed. 

Although accustomed to having thou- 
sands of eyes fixed upon her while she was 
acting, Polly had become embarrassed by 
the critical survey of two pair which were 
at present across from her. They belonged 
to her own Camp Fire group — Esther^s 
and Dick Ashton^s older daughter Alice, 
and Ellen Deal, the young woman Sylvia 
Wharton had more or less thrust upon the 
party. 

Ellen was from a small town in Penn- 
sylvania, but with her small, neat figure, 
high color and sandy hair, she might have 
come from a real English village in York- 
shire or Lancashire. She was older than 
the other girls and had already showed 
a decided fancy for Alice Ashton. Mrs. 
Burton fancied that she disapproved of her 
and would not try to conceal her point of 
view. She might really be too blunt to 
make for happiness in a Camp Fire club. 

Alice Ashton was a typical Boston girl. 
She was like her mother in appearance, 


62 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


except that her hair was a darker red, and 
she was handsomer than her mother had 
ever been. She wore glasses and was a 
graduate of Wellesley College. In accept- 
ing the Camp Fire invitation Alice had 
frankly stated that she wished to make an 
especial study of Arizona Indian customs 
for her English work the following year. 

But she had not seen her mother’s old 
friend since she was a little girl and, in 
Alice’s case, PoUy also felt she had proved 
a disappointment. 

It was natural that Alice should expect 
a famous actress to be impressive in man- 
ner and appearance, and Polly Burton was 
neither — of which she was weU aware. She 
was very slight and vivid and not always 
sure of herself or her moods. Really Alice 
gave her the feeling that she should resign 
at once as Camp Fire guardian and let 
Alice reign in her place. She would prob- 
ably fill it far better. 

But Sally Ashton was different, and Mrs. 
Burton felt that one might get amusement 
if not edification out of Sally. The very 
name of SaUy was an encouragement to do 
or say something saucy. And this Sally 


OBSERVATION 


63 


Jaad large, soft brown eyes and wavy hair 
and little white, even teeth. If her expres- 
sion was at present demin-e, one could see 
possibihties behind the demureness. 

In order not to think of herseK as under 
a critical survey, Mrs. Burton continued 
studying her new group of girls. 

SaUy was at the moment talking to the 
girl whom she had invited and who had 
joined the party with her at Chicago. If 
Gerry William’s history was so unusual 
that it might be best not to confide her 
story to the Camp Fire girls until they 
knew each other better, at least Mrs. 
Burton was happy in the choice of her. 
She was so pretty and charming and 
seemed to have so many possibilities 
if only she could have the proper influ- 
ences. 

Gerry was about sixteen and slender, with 
lovely light hair, blue eyes, and with almost 
too much color in her cheeks. Fortunately 
she had once been a member of a Camp 
Fire club in Chicago and so knew of their 
methods and ideals. 

There was no suggestion then that Gerry 
would be a problem in the new club. 


64 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Already she seemed to be making friends 
with most of the other girls. 

Vera — Billyhs adored friend — ^might be 
the trial. The girl had been born in Russia 
and brought to the United States about six 
or eight years ago. She spoke English 
perfectly and did not seem to be ill at 
ease, although she talked very httle. How- 
ever, Vera’s heavy dark face, with her low 
brow and long dark eyes, was an interesting 
one. Curiously, she was also a friend of 
Mrs. Webster’s — it was MoUie who had 
added her plea to Billy’s that the Russian 
girl be a Camp Fire guest. 

'^Yet, after all, what understanding had 
she of girls? And how httle she had seen 
of them since her own girlhood!” Mrs. 
Bin-ton concluded. 

Then, just as she was again becoming 
depressed, she saw her adored niece coming 
down the aisle. 

Peggy always brought an atmosphere of 
rehef and reasonableness. In fact, she 
discovered at once that her aunt was feel- 
ing frightened and unequal to the plan 
ahead. Of course, it was a great under- 
taking for a woman who had been spoiled 


OBSERVATION 


65 


— as Polly O^Neill Burton had been — by 
husband, family, friends and an admiring 
public — and not in good health — to sud- 
denly become guide, philosopher, mother 
and friend to a number of strange girls. 

In spite of their audience, Peggy leaned 
over and kissed her. 

'^It wiU be aU right, Tante; don^t be 
downcast. Only at present everybody is 
homesick and tired as you are. Can^t we 
have tea? You are not sorry we have 
come?^’ 

“Certainly not,’^ and PoUy smiled at her 
own childishness while she rejoiced over 
Peggy’s sweetness and good sense. 

Of course, she had known there would be 
difficulties in so original a Camp Fire club 
experiment. But when did anything worth 
while ever arrange itself without difficulties? 

Ten minutes later two colored stewards 
in white uniforms had arranged the tables 
and brought in tea. 

In entire good humor Mrs. Burton pre- 
sided while the men were kept busy pa.ssing 
back and forth innumerable cups of tea and 
plates of sandwiches. 

The girls were fifty per cent more cheer- 


66 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


ful and consequently more agreeable. At 
the table nearest Mrs. Burton were Peggy, 
Sally Ashton and Gerry Williams. 

All at once Mrs. Burton turned to her 
niece. 

^^What in the world has become of 
Bettina, dear?^’ she demanded. had 
not missed her until this moment. I am 
not a very successful old woman who lived 
in a shoe with so many children she couldnT 
tell what to do, for I donT even know when 
one of mine is lost.^’ 

Peggy got up. 

'^Bettina is out on the back platform 
dreaming, I suppose. I told her to come 
in with me a quarter of an hour ago. 1^11 
go get her.’^ 

However, after a little time, Peggy re- 
turned alone looking a little cross. 

“Bettina has disappeared. I canT find 
her,^’ she announced. “As I did not want 
to miss tea, I asked our porter to look.’' 

And no one thought of being worried 
about Bettina until the porter came to say 
that no young woman answering Bettina’s 
description could be found. 


CHAPTER VI 


Experience 

B ut Bettina was not conscious of how 
long a time had passed, or that she 
was causing anxiety. 

An unusual experience had come to her, 
and a most unconventional one. 

Standing there at the back of the observa- 
tion car, she had forgotten Peggy’s sug- 
gestion that she return to the rest of the 
girls. But perhaps she would not have 
gone in any case, because Bettina was not 
enjoying their society. She was shy, or 
perhaps cold. It was difficult to teU which 
was the influence at work. Nevertheless, 
she was finding it as much of a trial to be 
friendly and at ease with her fellow-travel- 
ers as she had with her mother’s older and 
more conventional guests in Washington. 
But it is possible that Bettina had inherited 
some of her father’s reserve — the reserve 
which had made Anthony Graham work 
and study alone during those many hard 
years before reaching manhood. 

( 67 ) 


68 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


However, to make up for her lack of 
interest and her uncongeniality with people 
— as is true with nearly all such persons — 
Bettina had an unusual fondness for nature. 

Now, the landscape of Kansas had not 
appealed strongly to any one of the other 
girls. Usually the country was flat and 
covered with great fields of young com or 
wheat, with prosperous farm-houses stand- 
ing in the background. Yet Bettina saw 
color and grace in everything. 

As the car rushed along, with its rattling 
and banging, she was trying to recall a line 
of Kipling^s poetry which described the 
sound the wind made through the com. 

After Peggy left her, Bettina had caught 
hold of the wide railing at the end of the 
car for safety. She was now occupying the 
entire rear platform of the observation 
train alone. She was swaying slightly with 
the movement, with her eyes wide open and 
her lips slightly parted. Having taken off 
her hat, the afternoon sunshine made amber 
lights in her hair as it flickered amid the 
brown and gold. 

Then, suddenly, Bettina became con- 
scious that some one else had come out on 


EXPERIENCE 


69 


the same end of the car with her and was 
standing near. 

It was stupid and self-conscious to flush 
as she always did in the presence of strangers. 

hope I do not disturb you/^ she then 
heard a voice say courteously. And, turn- 
ing her head to reply, Bettina beheld a 
young man of about twenty. He looked 
very dark — a Spaniard she believed him for 
the moment. His eyes were fine and clear, 
with a faraway look in them; his nose, 
aquiline; and he held his head back and his 
chin uplifted. 

'^You don’t trouble me in the least,” 
Bettina replied, feeling her shyness vanish. 

Besides, I was just going back to my 
friends.” 

Yet she did not go at once. 

She was interested in the unusual appear- 
ance of her companion. He had folded his 
arms and was looking gravely back at the 
constantly receding landscape. 

'^And east is east and west is west, 

And never the twain shall meet.’^ 

He spoke apparently without regarding 
Bettina and softly under his breath. 


70 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Therefore it was Bettina who really began 
their conversation, their other speeches to 
each other having expressed only the ordi- 
nary conventionalities between fellow- 
travelers. 

^ Ht is curious — ^your repeating those lines, ^ ’ 
Bettina returned, her eyes changing from 
gray to blue, as they often did in moments 
of friendliness. “I have just been standing 
here trying to recall another line of Kip- 
ling^s poetry. And it has come to me since 
you spoke: ^The wind whimpers through 
the fields.’ Do you care for Kipling’s 
poetry?” 

The young man turned more directly 
toward Bettina. 

“I am an Indian,” he explained simply. 
^Ht is natural that I should think of those 
lines, for I have been for several years at a 
college in your eastern country and am now 
returning to my own people and my own 
land. I am a Hopi. My home is in the 
province of Tusayan, Arizona, in the town of 
Oraibi. We are Indians of the Pueblo.” 

^^But you — ” Bettina hesitated. 

The young fellow threw back his head 
and, then realizing that custom demanded 


EXPERIENCE 


71 


it, lifted his hat. He was dressed as any 
other young college man might be, except 
that his clothes were simple and a little 
shabby. 

I am not entirely Indian, he continued, 
still so serious that Bettina was unconscious 
of there being anything out of the way in 
his confidence. ^^My mother was a Spanish 
w’^oman, I have been told; but she died at 
my birth and now my father is again mar- 
ried and has children by a woman of his own 
race. Yet I am glad to return to my own 
people, to wear again the moccasin of brown 
deer-skin and the head-band of scarlet.’^ 

Instinctively the young man^s pose 
changed. Bettina could see that his 
shoulders hfted and that he breathed more 
deeply. He stood there on the platform 
of the most civilized and civilizing monster 
in the world — a great express train — gazing 
out on the fields as if he had been an Indian 
chief at the door of his own tepee, surveying 
his own domains. 

Naturally Bettina was fascinated. What 
young girl could have failed to have been 
interested? And Bettina had lived more in 
books and dreams than in realities. 


72 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


are also going to Arizona/’ Bettina 
added quickly. “I have never been West 
before, though I have longed to always. 
We are to camp somewhere on a ranch not 
far from the Painted Desert. Do Indians 
live near there and would you mind telling 
me something of them? Are they still war- 
hke? Sometimes I feel a little nervous, for 
we are to be only a party of girls and our 
Camp Fire guardian, except that we^ are to 
have a man and his wife for our cook and 
guide.” 

For an instant the young fellow laughed 
as any other boy would have done, and 
showing white, fine teeth. Afterwards he 
relapsed into the conventional Indian 
gravity. 

^^My own people are peaceful and always 
have been, except when we have been 
attacked by other Indians. Hopi means 
^peaceful people,’ and we have lived in 
Arizona, the land of ^few springs,’ since 
before the days when your written history 
begins. The Apaches have always been our 
bitterest enemies. But they wiU not harm 
you — the great hand of your United States 
Government is over us aU, ” he concluded. 


EXPERIENCE 


73 


And Bettina could not tell whether he 
spoke in admiration or in bitterness. 

It was growing cooler and she shiv- 
ered — not in reahty from the cold half 
so much as from her interest in the con- 
versation. 

Nevertheless the Indian saw her slight 
movement. 

“You are cold; you must be careful in 
the desert, as often the night turns suddenly 
cool after a scorching day. May I take 
you to your friends?’^ 

Bettina was accustomed to having her 
own way. She was enjoying the talk with 
her unusual acquaintance far more than 
anything that had taken place since their 
journey began. Therefore it did not occur 
to her to consider that her absence might 
create uneasiness. 

“Are you going to do anything else? If 
you are not I wonder if you would mind 
our finding a place somewhere and talking?’^ 
she suggested. “I know it is asking a great 
deal of you, but there are so many things I 
wish to know about the West.’^ 

Bettina was hke an eager child. But, 
then, ordinary conventionalities never 


74 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


troubled her, unless they were forced upon 
her consideration. 

And what could the young man do except 
assent. 

He found Bettina a camp chair at the 
rear end of the adjoining car and himself 
a small one beside it. 

But the chairs were not outside; they 
stood in an enclosed space just inside the 
train and beside a great window. 

When her companion sat down beside 
her, one could not get a full view of Bettina. 

However, Peggy did not pass her by, for 
she did not go into this car to search. But 
the colored porter did. Yet he had been 
told to discover a young woman who was 
alone, dressed in a blue suit and wearing a 
blue hat. 

And Bettina was not alone. She was 
deeply engaged in conversation, and without 
a hat, so, although the porter did hesitate 
beside her, he did not interrupt, deciding 
that she was not the young woman he 
sought. 

But here Mrs. Burton and two of the 
girls found her a few moments later. 

As soon as the man returned and declar- 


EXPERIENCE 


75 


ing that Bettina had vanished, Polly had 
become instantly terrified. For a woman 
who was to be chaperon to half a dozen or 
more girls, she had far too much imagina- 
tion. At once she conceived the idea that 
Bettina had fallen off the train — and — what 
could she say to the child^s mother and 
father? It was too dreadful! 

Indeed, Mrs. Burton would have had the 
train stopped immediately, except that 
Peggy and Ellen Deal, who at once rose to 
the occasion, insisted that Bettina be 
reconnoitered for again. 

But when Bettina was finally traced and 
discovered in agreeable conversation with a 
strange young man, her chaperon was 
angry. Indeed, the natural Polly wished 
to assert herself and give the girl just such 
a scolding as she would have bestowed upon 
her mother in their younger days. Only, 
of course, the present, more elderly Polly 
was convinced that Betty would never have 
been so inconsiderate as her daughter. 

However, remembering her own dignity 
as a newly-chosen Camp Fire guardian, 
after a few moments of reproach, she did 
manage to control her temper. 


76 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


And Bettina, although making no defense, 
was sorry. She had not been intentionally 
selfish, only she did not see but one side of a 
situation until usually it was too late. She 
lived — as so many other people do — in her 
own visions and her own desires. Yet, at 
present, she deeply wished her mother’s 
old friend to care for her and exag^, crated the 
failure she was making with her. Without 
appreciating it, Polly walked in a kind of 
halo of achievement and charm before 
Bettina’s eyes. Therefore, it was unfortu- 
nate Bettina did not realize that everything 
and everybody in the world Mrs. Polly 
Burton took more seriously than shie did 
her own fame, and that the dearest desire 
of her heart at the present time was that 
her new Camp Fire girls should regard her 
as their friend. 


CHAPTER VII 


Sunset Pass 

WO days later, however, a few 



hours after breakfast, Mrs. PoUy 


Burton was also interested in Bet- 
tina’s new acquaintance, and was making 
the yoimg man useful. 

The afternoon of their meeting Bettina 
had endeavored to introduce him, but had 
foimd this diflSicult because she did not 
know his name. 

At the time, the Indian had met the 
situation with no more awkardness than 
any other young fellow in the same posi- 
tion would have shown. He had at once 
given his name to Mrs. Burton as John 
Mase. However, both she and the girls, 
who were her companions, understood this 
was not the young man^s Indian name, but 
probably the one which had been bestowed 
upon him at a government school and 
which he evidently preferred using at col- 
lege and among strangers of the white race. 


( 77 ) 


78 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


The following day none of the Camp Fire 
party saw anything of him, though frankly 
all the girls were curious, after learning of 
Bettina^s escapade. It was on the second 
morning that, going back to his own coach 
from the dining car, the young man chanced 
to pass Bettina and Mrs. Burton. At the 
moment they were seated side by side in 
one compartment. But it was Mrs. Polly 
Burton — the official guardian of the new 
group of Camp Fire girls en route to their 
desert camp — ^who this time accosted him. 
For the young Indian had only bowed and 
continued to walk gravely on. 

But the train was now entering the 
Arizona plateau country. By nightfall 
the Camp Fire party expected to arrive 
at a tiny village not far from Winslow and 
the next day begin the trek to their own 
camp. 

Already the air was clear and brilliant. 
Away to the west were the outlines of high 
mountains and the peaks of giant canyons. 
Here and there were bits of dreary, olive- 
gray desert and then an unexpected green 
oasis. 

In the night it appeared as if the face of 


SUNSET PASS 


79 


the world had changed, and with it the 
Camp Fire girls had changed also. If 
there were further coldness or friction 
between them, it had disappeared in their 
great common interest in the things before 
them and in the dream of their new life 
together in the desert. And, though they 
were too absorbed at the time for reflection, 
this is the way in which all friction between 
human beings may be destroyed; uncon- 
sciously the girls were acquiring one of the 
big lessons of the Camp Fire work — to 
live and think outside themselves. 

At every station there were dozens of 
Indians offering their wares for sale. To 
eastern girls it seemed scarcely possible 
that they were still in the United States, 
so unlike was this new land. Yet the 
Camp Fire girls nobly refrained from mak- 
ing purchases, having solemnly promised to 
add nothing to their luggage until they 
reached camp. 

Yet, in reality, it was the sight of so 
many Indian treasures which inspired Mrs. 
Burton to speak to Bettina^s Indian ac- 
quaintance. She appreciated that he must 
know more of the requirements of camp life 


80 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


in Arizona than she could learn from any 
number of books or from the conversation 
of a dozen acquaintances. 

Yet possibly this was just a ^^PoUyesque’^ 
excuse. She may have been attracted by 
the young Indian’s appearance, as Bettina 
had previously been, and simply wished to 
be entertained by him. 

He was so grave and yet so courteous; 
and his voice had the gentle, caressing sound 
which afterwards the campers learned was 
a pecuharity of Hopi Indians. 

^^My father is a kiva chief,” he explained 
good naturedly. ^^We have many chiefs 
among the Hopis, but the kiva is the 
imderground chamber for our religious cere- 
monies, and the kiva chief has charge of 
them.” 

He seemed to be as willing to talk to 
PoUy as he had to Bettina on their first 
meeting. But then Bettina was beside 
them, listening with the soft color coming 
in her cheeks from her deep interest, and 
the blue in her sometimes gray eyes. 

She had been sitting with Mrs. Burton 
and separated from the others when the 
young Indian joined them. It was ex- 


SUNSET PASS 


81 


traordinary how soon they were sur- 
rounded. 

First Peggy came and took a seat across 
from her aunt and then Alice Ashton, in- 
tending to make a special study of Indian 
custom, therefore felt it her duty to make 
the young man’s acquaintance. Ellen 
Deal frankly leaned over from her place on 
the opposite side of the aisle and Gerry 
came and stood beside Bettina. Only 
Vera and Sallie Ashton appeared uninter- 
ested. Vera, because she was too shut up 
inside herself to be natural; and SaUie, 
because she was too much entertained by 
a light novel and a five-pound box of choco- 
lates, into which she had been dipping 
steadily for several days without the least 
injury to her disposition or her complexion. 

When the young Indian sat down she 
had simply given him a glance from over 
the pages of her book and then glanced 
at Bettina. Afterwards she had smiled 
and gone on reading. Sally and Bettina 
knew each other, of course, though not 
intimately, considering the fact that their 
mothers were sisters. But then they only 
met now and then and there was no con- 


82 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


geniality between them. Alice and Bettina 
were better friends. 

Gerry Williams and Bettina looked a 
little alike/’ Mrs. Burton reflected, even 
while she was hstening with interest to the 
conversation of their new acquaintance. 
But then it had become second nature to 
study the girls travehng with her ever 
since their departure. 

Gerry was perhaps prettier than Bet- 
tina, or at least some people might think 
so,” Polly decided, feeling that in some way 
the idea was a disloyalty to her own friend- 
ship with Bettina’s mother. And certainly 
Gerry was easier to understand! 

She was standing now beside Bettina, 
her eyes a lighter blue, her hair a paler 
gold, but she was about the same in height 
and slenderness. And she was talking to 
the young Indian as if they had known each 
other a long time, while Bettina, now 
that other people were present, remained 
silent. 

^^Do you mean to be a chief yourself 
some day?” Gerry asked, her blue eyes 
widening like a child’s from curiosity. 

Gerry was a pretty contrast to the young 


SUNSET PASS 


83 


Indian; so delicately fair in comparison 
with his bronze vigor. 

She looked almost poorly dressed as she 
stood by Bettina, but girls do not realize 
that handsome clothes are not necessary 
when one is pretty and young. Gerry^s 
traveling dress was also blue, a brighter 
color, and equally becoming. Just for half 
an instant, and before the young man 
answered, it flashed through Polly Burton ^s 
mind that the young Indian might become 
interested in Gerry if they should chance 
to meet often. And Gerry had not the 
social training to make her realize how 
wrong it might be to cultivate such a friend- 
ship. The next instant, however, Mrs. 
Burton had forgotten the absurdity of her 
own idea. Besides, in aU probability they 
would not see the young man again. 

'^I am studying law at Yale,’^ he an- 
swered, surveying Gerry with a peculiar 
long stare he had given no one else. ^^It 
is my plan to work among my own people, 
but in the white man’s way. 

Before the morning had passed he had 
confessed to Mrs. Burton his own name. 
At least he made his confession looking 


84 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


directly at her as the official chaperon. 
But really he seemed less conscious of the 
group of girls about him than any American 
college fellow could have managed to be. 

^^Se-kyal-ets-tewa (Dawn Light). The 
name was a beautiful one, but small wonder 
the young man preferred being called by his 
adopted name! He smiled when he ex- 
plained that it was against the better judg- 
ment of a Hopi Indian to confess his own 
title. A friend might tell it for him, but to 
speak one’s own name was to invite disaster. 

Indeed, during the long morning’s talk 
together, Mrs. Burton was puzzled to dis- 
cover how far the young man had been 
converted to American ideas and ideals, 
and how far he stiU believed in and pre- 
ferred his own. He made no criticism of 
either. He merely answered a hundred 
inquiries from half a dozen young women 
for the distance of a hundred miles or 
more, and never lost his temper or suggested 
that some of the questions were absurd. 
Only once did he smile with slight sarcasm. 
In her best Boston manner Alice Ashton 
had asked a question not comphmentary 
to Indian women. 


SUNSET PASS 


85 


“The Hopi women have always had the 
privilege of voting/’ he replied. “I believe 
you will find them the original American 
suffragettes, since we came to this country 
a good many years before the Pilgrim 
fathers. You do not vote in Boston, I 
think.” And then all the party laughed 
except Alice, who had not a sense of humor. 

Although Sallie, her younger sister, was 
not supposed to hear, she flashed a pleased 
smile above the pages of her book. For 
Alice was the learned member of the 
family and Sally the frivolous, so now and 
then it was fun to score. 

When lunch time arrived the Indian 
would not remain longer with the Camp 
Fire party, although Mrs. Burton felt it 
her duty to issue an invitation. She was 
pleased with his good sense in declining. 

However, on leaving, he did say: “You 
may some day wish to come to my village 
in Oraibi, and then I would like to show you 
both beautiful and curious things.” 

For an instant, just as he was making 
this remark, his glance rested on Bettina. 
She could not have defined it to herself, 
but in some way his invitation appeared 


86 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


to have been addressed to her. And Bet- 
tina determined to accept. The young 
Indian had interested her in the account 
he gave of his life and people. Bettina 
was not fond of a conventional existence 
and had often wished to see a simpler and 
freer life. The Hopi Indians appeared to 
have arrived at a curious combination of 
civilization and what we caU savagery. 
For instance, the old and infirm in a Hopi 
community are never allowed to want. 
The ^^Law of Mutual Help” suggests a 
better way of life than Lloyd George’s 
far-famed old-age pensions” in the 
British Isles. 

So Bettina sat dreaming and reflecting 
the greater part of the afternoon, while 
the other girls packed and unpacked, 
laughed and talked, excited over the pros- 
pect of arrival. 

By an accident it was just before sunset 
when they reached a small wayside station 
known as Sunset Pass, because the Sunset 
trail led away from it. The party expected 
to spend the night at a big ranch house 
some miles away and, if possible, make 
camp the next morning. 


SUNSET PASS 


87 


But, as they left the train, suddenly 
the day had changed from heat to coldness. 
The girls and Mrs. Burton, as well, felt an 
uncomfortable sense of chill at their 
surroundings. 

The httle western station looked so bare 
and dreary. There were scarcely a dozen 
frame houses in view and these were all 
built ahke and had no flowers or shubbery 
to reheve their dullness. 

Near the station was an extraordinary 
structure, which covered more than a half 
acre of ground. It was built of wooden 
planks so crossed and recrossed as to form 
small rooms or pens. It might have been 
an enormous open-air prison and was in 
fact. Weird and lonely noises issued from 
it — the bleating of hundreds of sheep wait- 
ing for a cattle train to ship them to the 
eastern market. 

Had she been alone, Mrs. Burton felt 
she would have given way to homesick- 
ness. However, as Camp Fire guardian and 
the oldest member of what was after all her 
own expedition, she must appear cheerful. 

Then Marie unexpectedly relieved the 
situation. 


88 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Descending from the train to the wooden 
platform, Marie gave a long look at the 
surroundings and burst into tears. And 
her tears were not of the silent variety. 

Sally Ashton and Peggy giggled irresist- 
ibly, but everybody smiled. 

Marie looked so incongruous. Her cos- 
tume was the perfectly correct one she 
wore when following her famous mistress 
through a sometimes curious crowd at the 
Grand Central Station in New York 
City, or through another almost equally 
large. 

But it was Gerry Williams, after all, who 
went to Marie and patted her sympathet- 
ically on the shoulder. Mrs. Burton was 
pleased. And it was true that, in spite of 
other weaknesses, Gerry did things Uke 
this naturally, although she may not have 
been entirely unconscious, even at this 
moment, of their Camp Fire guardian^s 
presence. 

Gerry knew that the celebrated Mrs. 
Burton had taken a fancy to her and 
intended making the most of it. 

Then Gerry’s prettiness also appealed 
strongly to Polly Burton. It was of the 


SUNSET PASS 


89 


fair ethereal kind — an entire contrast to her 
own appearance. Moreover, one must 
remember how Polly O’Neill had always 
admired beauty and how great a point she 
had made of her friend Betty Ashton’s in 
their old Camp Fire days. 

Although Gerry’s sympathy was not 
effective, Mrs. Burton knew how to check 
her maid’s tears. 

am cold; wall you please put my fur 
coat on me, Marie,” she suggested, whis- 
pering something consoling as Marie slipped 
her into it. 

Then Mrs. Burton became nervous. 

She and her Camp Fire party were 
standing alone on a deserted platform in a 
place which appeared to be a thousand 
miles from nowhere. For there was no 
one in sight except a little bent-over sta- 
tion master inside a kind of wooden box, 
who looked like a clay model of a man 
molded by an amateur artist. 

As he did not emerge from his shack, 
Mrs. Burton started toward him. 

Certainly she had expected that every 
arrangement for meeting them had been 
made beforehand, her husband having spent 


90 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


a small fortune on telegrams for this 
purpose. 

However, she had gone but a few steps 
when the tallest man she ever remembered 
seeing came striding toward her. 

guess this is the party looked for/^ 
he remarked with an agreeable smile. 

Arizona hasn’t seen such a bunch of 
pretty girls in a long spell. Come this 
way; my wife is expecting you at the 
ranch house, but I got tired waiting for 
you and have been loafing about in the 
neighborhood.” 

Then he led the way, the Sunrise Camp 
Fire party of course following. 

Waiting for them a little out of sight 
was an old-fashioned stage-coach drawn 
by a pair of fine horses. 

The driver, who was Mr. Gardener, the 
wealthy owner of Sunset Ranch, assisted by 
the dwarf station master piled all the girls’ 
luggage on top the stage; the heavier 
trunks were to be sent for later. 

Then the coach started down a long, 
straight road facing the west. 

The sky was a mass of color far more 
vivid and brilliant than an eastern sunset. 


SUNSET PASS 


91 


Beyond, almost pressing up into the clouds, 
were the distant peaks of extinct volcanoes. 
It was as if they had once flung their molten 
flames up into the sky and there they had 
been caught and held in the evening clouds. 

It does not seem credible that eight 
women can remain silent for three-quarters 
of an hour, and yet the Camp Fire party 
was nearly so. Then they drew up in front 
of a big one-story house with a grove of 
cottonwood trees before it. 

On the porch waiting to receive them 
stood Mrs. Gardener, the wife of their 
driver and the owner of the ranch house 
and the great ranch itself, near whose 
border the Camp Fire party expected to 
pitch their tents. 


CHAPTER VIII 


At The Desert’s Edge 

S OON after sunrise the next day the 
Camp Fire party planned to leave the 
big ranch house. 

Mr. and Mrs. Gardener had already 
assured them that their camping outfit had 
been sent on ahead the day before to the 
borders of Cottonwood Creek, so there need 
be no delay when the campers arrived. 
One of Mr. Gardener’s own men had it in 
charge and, as soon as the expedition 
joined him, would aid in the choice of a 
camping site. Water, one must remember, 
was the great problem in Arizona and they 
must, therefore, select a place near a clear 
creek. 

It was not yet daylight when Bettina 
Graham first opened her eyes the morning 
after their arrival, and yet she felt com- 
pletely rested. She was sleeping beside 
Peggy, while on the opposite side of the 
room were Gerry Williams and the Rus- 
sian girl, Vera Lageloff. 

( 92 ) 


AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 93 


“Camping also makes strange bedfel- 
lows,” Bettina thought with the quiet sense 
of humor so few people realized she pos- 
sessed. She was not homesick — ^life at 
present held too many fascinating possibili- 
ties — ^but it was natural that she should 
begin thinking of her own home in Wash- 
ington, and more especially of her own suite 
of rooms. They had been recently refur- 
nished — as a birthday gift from her father — 
in pale grey and rose color, with the furni- 
ture of French oak. 

Bettina appreciated that she had known 
nothing but the fair side of hfe — that it 
was almost a weakness of her father’s to 
do more for her than she even desired. 
Senator Graham was not ashamed of his 
own humble past and the hard struggle of 
his boyhood; but, hke many another self- 
made man, for this reason he wished his 
family to have every indulgence. Yet, 
although the close bond of sympathy was 
between Bettina and her father and Tony 
and his mother, Senator Graham did not 
wish his daughter to know only the hfe of 
luxury and self-indulgence. 

Therefore, it was he who had been most 


94 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


in favor of the western camping experi- 
ment. Bettina was to long remember his 
saying that he wished her ^Ho find herself’’ 
and that this one must do away from one’s 
own family. 

In camping with so wealthy and famous 
a woman as PoUy Burton there would be 
scarcely any great hardships to be endured. 
The new Sunrise Camp Fire girls were in 
more danger of having fife made too easy 
for them rather than too difiicult. Yet 
there might be circumstances now and then 
which would require good sense and cour- 
age to overcome. And, most of all, Bet- 
tina needed to see the practical side of 
every-day life. 

'Ht was so like Polly O’Neill to get 
together such an extraordinarily unlike 
group of girls, but I had hoped Polly 
O’Neill Burton might have better judg- 
ment,” Betty Graham had lamented to her 
husband and daughter, half in earnest and 
half amused. 

But when her husband assured her that 
this was one of the particular reasons why 
he wished Bettina to form one of the 
group, Mrs. Graham, suddenly remember- 


AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 95 


ing his humble origin, had been wisely 
silent. 

Therefore, before setting out on their 
western trip, Bettina had firmly made up 
her mind to do her best to be friendly with 
the entire group of Camp Fire girls. And, 
on waking this first morning of their arrival, 
she was in a measure reproaching herseE 
for her lack of effort on the journey. 

Then unexpectedly Bettina sat upright 
in bed, feeling that she must get out of 
doors at once. She needed to breathe the 
fresh air in order to get rid of a stupid 
impression which had just taken hold of 
her. 

All her life ]6ettina had been given to 
odd fancies — impressions which annoyed 
her mother deeply, and which she herself 
considered strange and uncomfortable. 
Just at this moment, for instance, and in 
the midst of her good resolution, Bettina 
had been assailed by a kind of presenti- 
ment. She had a feeling, which was part 
mental and part physical, that among the 
four girls in the room — ^for Vera and Gerry 
Williams were sleeping opposite herself and 
Peggy — one of the four of them, either con- 


96 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


sciously or unconsciously would bring mis- 
fortune upon the others. 

Yet, even as she thought this, Bettina was 
embarrassed and ashamed and, in the gray 
hght of the early morning, she felt her 
cheeks flushing. 

But deny or be ashamed of the fact as 
she would, nevertheless it was true that 
Bettina Graham, ever since she was a 
little girl, had a curious fashion of knowing 
certain events were to take place before 
they occurred. 

She moved over now to the edge of the 
bed. Then a faint noise disturbed her. . 

Turning, she saw that Gerry Williams 
had also awakened and was half way out 
of her bed. She could just faintly see her 
delicate outline — the pretty tumbled light 
hair and smiling blue eyes. 

Bettina made a slight sign to her and 
began quietly to dress. A few moments 
later the two girls slipped out and went 
downstairs and out of doors. 

It was not dark now, for daylight was 
breaking. Guided by a sound they heard, 
the girls went to the left of the big ranch 
house. And there, tied to hitching posts, 


AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 97 


were half a dozen burros with women^s 
saddles on them; also a pair of httle gray 
mules packed like camels of the desert with 
great loads hanging from their backs and 
extending out on either side. 

A young man was bending over arrang- 
ing one of these packs. 

He looked up surprised as the two girls 
came toward him. He was dressed like 
the usual western cowboy, with the big hat 
and flannel shirt and his trousers ending 
inside his riding boots. He must have 
been about twenty-one. 

Gerry smiled at him. 

^^This must be our caravan. I wonder 
if I can manage to ride? I never have in 
my life.’’ 

The young man lifted his hat. 

^^This is the Sunrise Camp Fire outfit. 
I am glad to meet some of its members at 
such an hour.” 

He pointed toward the east where the 
sun was now rising above the horizon. 

^Terhaps I may be able to show you how 
to ride, as I am to be your guide.” 

In reply, Gerry laughed and Bettina 
shook her head. 


98 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


^^No, I think not/’ Gerry returned. 
^^Mrs. Burton told us that she had engaged 
an elderly man and his wife to be our guide 
and cook. She wrote to secure them 
weeks ago.” 

The young man did not reply. 

But an hour afterwards Mrs. Burton, 
who never remembered having gotten up 
so early since the long-ago Sunrise Camp 
Fire days, was engaged in argument on this 
same subject. 

^^But, my dear Mr. and Mrs. Gardener, 
surely you can see this young man is impos- 
sible, no matter how trustworthy he may 
be or how excellent a knowlege of the 
country he may have!” She gave a semi- 
tragic shrug of her shoulders. ^^You may 
not have considered that I am to have six 
young girls in my camp and one only a 
little older, besides myself and my maid. 
And now to hear we are to have an ex-col- 
lege youth to look after us when I wished 
a man of fifty at least! You know your- 
self, Mrs. Gardener, that anything may 
happen.” 

Mrs. Burton was standing beside her 
host and hostess at one side of the big 


AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 99 


ranch house veranda at six o’clock that 
same morning. She looked very fragile 
and young herself in comparison. For, 
although Mrs. Gardener was not tall, she 
made up in breadth what she lacked in 
height. 

She now patted Mrs. Burton’s shoulder, 
as if she had been a child needing encour- 
agement. 

Nonsense, my dear; the young man 
will do you no harm. Husband and I are 
sorry that the man and wife we engaged 
for you disappointed us. But getting help 
of any kind out here is a problem. Besides, 
it’s better that those Camp Fire girls of 
yours should do their own cooking. This 
one young man cannot do any mischief 
when there are so many of you. His tent 
will be far enough away not to make him 
a nuisance, and yet you can get hold of 
him when you need him. But you must 
remember that husband and I are near and 
ready to be of whatever service we can.” 

The fact that the new Sunrise camp 
would be anywhere from ten to twenty 
miles away did not suggest itself to Mrs. 
Gardener as representing distance, so little 


100 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


do people in the western states consider 
space. Then she broke into cheerful little 
good-natured chuckles. 

^^Were you planning, Mrs. Burton, to be 
a kind of Mother Superior, and run a nun- 
nery in our Arizona wilderness? You’ll 
find it pretty hard work to hide those girls 
out here where girls are scarce. If they 
had not been, how do you suppose I would 
have gotten my good-looking husband?” 

Then Polly turned in despair to Mr. 
Gardener. 

^^Your wife is an incorrigible woman. 
But at least tell me who this young man 
is, his name, and why you think he can be 
trusted as a safe protector for eight lone 
women? Really, you must find me a 
proper person, Mr. Gardener. Your young 
man will have to guide us today, since there 
is no one else, but in a few days — say, in a 
week — you’ll get somebody else?” 

Mrs. Burton looked so young and so 
alarmed at the responsibilities she had 
assumed that Mr. Gardener nodded his 
head reassuringly. 

^‘Certainly, I’ll find some one else for 
you in time, if you prefer. But Terry 


AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 101 


Benton is all right. He got tired of school 
and came out here to work for me and has 
been with me on the ranch for a year. He 
is a pretty nervy fellow to undertake this 
job, I think, and he wouldn’t except to 
accommodate me.” Mr. Gardener delib- 
erately winked a very large, childhke blue 
eye. had to produce some one to keep 
my word. But I tell you I am nervous 
about Terry. There are enough girls to 
take care of themselves.” 

Polly was uncertain whether she wanted 
to laugh or cry. Being a Camp Fire 
guardian under the present circumstances 
was not an easy position. Really, she had 
not anticipated the things that could 
happen. 

“And you actually called our new guide, 
Terry, Mr. Gardener. You know that 
means he is an Irishman. Don’t contradict 
me. Being Irish myself, I shall know when 
I see him, anyhow. I expect to have a 
good many problems with my Camp Fire 
girls, but the Irish problem I won’t have.” 

Then, as Mrs. Burton turned away, she 
said, not aloud but to herself: 

“Besides, Terry rhymes with Gerry, or 


102 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


will rli 3 rme with some one else. I wish 
there were no young men in Arizona for 
the next few months.” 

As a matter of fact, Gerry did require a 
a good deal of assistance in the long trek 
to find a suitable camping place. But, 
then, the new guldens labors were of vari- 
ous kinds. He rode ahead on a lank, ugly- 
looking pony, his long legs trailing almost 
to the ground and followed at uncertain 
intervals by the girls and Mrs. Burton. 

Now and then several of them would 
change from the backs of the burros to the 
solitary farm wagon, which carried their 
provisions and always Marie, who had 
wept once more at the thought of mounting 
a burro. 

Polly was finding her maid all the prob- 
lem Sylvia had insisted she would be. But 
there were three seats in the wagon, beside 
the place of the boy who was driving, and 
the other two were sufficient when the 
girls or their guardian grew tired. The 
httle gray pack mules — Tim and Ina — 
trotted behind the wagon. 

Certainly the Camp Fire caravan party 
formed an odd picture as they trailed 


AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 103 


across the ranch. Yet they fitted into the 
scenery through which they were passing. 
Over the same trail in bygone days many 
other women had traveled. Today the 
girls were wearing their regulation Camp 
Fire dresses, only instead of skirts they 
wore khaki trousers and leather leggings 
and soft hats. Each girl had her hair 
braided and hanging down for greater 
convenience. 

At first they only followed the ranch 
roads through great fields of purple clover 
and then through several acres of peach 
orchard. But at last they came to a wilder 
country near the outskirt of the big ranch. 
Here they were nearing the neighborhood 
of the Painted Desert. 

Short stretches of sand, yellow with 
flowering bunches of rabbit brush or gray 
with the ice plant, showed here and there. 
Then a mesa suddenly arose many feet 
above the desert and often covered with 
grass, or a verdant bit of valley showed 
further on. 

Riding ahead, the new guide frequently 
pointed out objects of interest — a giant 
yucca tree, or queer animals scooting to 


104 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


their burrows. But never once did he 
betray his nationality by a single speech — 
not even by a light in his eye. 

And, whenever she could remember, Mrs. 
Burton watched the young man narrowly. 
Yet it was hard for her to play chaperon 
when there was so much she wished to see 
and understand. And, really, Terry did 
seem to be a nice fellow. 

An hour after the Camp Fire party had 
eaten lunch and recommenced their jour- 
ney, they discovered their possessions wait- 
ing in the neighborhood of Cottonwood 
Creek and watched over by one of Mr. 
Gardener’s men. Several weeks ago Mr. 
and Mrs. Burton had purchased the neces- 
sary camping outfit and sent them on 
ahead to be taken care of at the ranch. 

So, the wagon joining the procession, the 
entire party journeyed on for another two 
hours. 

It was Peggy Webster who finally 
selected the ideal mesa for the new camp, 
and as much for sentiment as any other 
reason. She was riding ahead when she 
chanced to see a mesa about twenty feet 
high, with a group of pine trees growing 


AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 105 

upon it and a portion of the ground covered 
with soft pine needles. 

Giving the reins of her burro to Bettina, 
Peggy chmbed alone up the steep side, in 
which there were jagged steps of sandstone 
inlaid with agate. 

The Camp Fire party halted below. 
Some miles beyond they could faintly see 
the outline of giant cliffs. 

Mrs. Burton followed her niece, finding 
the view from this particular spot beautiful 
beyond words. 

'^May we have our camp here if we can 
find water near?’^ Peggy entreated. ^'We 
can see the sunrise over the hills, and this 
is to be a new Sunrise camp.^^ 

And PoUy Burton nodded absently, 
thinking of another camp fire. 

At the moment they were in the wonder- 
ful plateau country of Arizona and near 
the Painted Desert, which has no connec- 
tion with the great Arizona desert to the 
south. Encircling them halfway around 
were giant hills and cliffs. The air was so 
clear one could see many miles. Small 
wonder that the restless Spanish adven- 
turers of the sixteenth century came here 


106 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


to search for the seven lost cities of 
Cibola! 

A little later Terry Benton reported that 
clear water was not far away, and the other 
girls followed their guardian and Peggy to 
the top of their enchanted mesa. 

A stream emptied into Cottonwood 
Creek, whose water was too muddy for the 
campers to use, but would serve for their 
horses. The creek was only a short dis- 
tance away. Then the pine trees would 
be a shelter from the midday heat. 

By nightfall the Sunrise Camp Fire tents 
were pitched. The men did the heavier 
part of the work, but the girls used their 
camp fire knowledge as never before in their 
simpler camping experiences. 

Besides, they were inspired by the won- 
derful air and the romantic beauty of the 
country about them. 

It turned out that Peggy Webster and 
Vera Lageloff were natural leaders in out- 
door work. Peggy, because she had a great 
deal of common sense and no hesitation in 
telling the others what to do. Vera, how- 
ever, worked with such quiet intensity that 
inevitably one sought to keep up with her. 


AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 107 


Although, laboring with her hands as she 
had not in many years, Mrs. Burton 
observed that all the girls were doing their 
share of the work, except Sally Ashton. 
Sally appeared to be one of the charming, 
lazy people who take life easily. And 
there was no time to reproach anyone 
today. 

There were two large sleeping tents for 
the Camp Fire girls and a smaller one for 
their guardian, who preferred being alone at 
night, except for the presence of the 
devoted Marie. Then there was the 
kitchen, or general utility tent, in case rain 
should make cooking or domestic work 
outdoors impossible. 

However, the array of tents seemed 
unnecessary, for rain seldom falls in the 
early summer in northern Arizona. And 
that first night everybody slept out of 
doors, except Marie. 

They brought out their blankets and 
there, on the top of the mesa, lay down 
under the stars. The night was too clear 
to fall asleep at once. 

Terry Benton and the man and boy, 
who had assisted in bringing the outfit and 


108 'AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 

provisions to camp, found a place in the 
cottonwood grove below the mesa, within 
call but out of sight of the Camp Fire 
party. 

To have learned to know and under- 
stand this group of girls it would have been 
interesting to have been able to read what 
was going on in their minds on this first 
wonderful Arizona night out of doors. But 
who of us is not thankful that our thoughts 
at least are our own? 


CHAPTER EX 


Undercurrents 

WEEK later and life among the 



new Sunrise Hill Camp Fire girls 


^ appeared to be moving with entire 
smoothness. 

The girls had their regular schedule of 
work and it was simple enough to gain 
new Camp Fire honors in a land whose 
every phase was unusual and absorbing, 
and where work in itself became an adven- 
ture. 

In a low camp chair outside her own tent 
one morning Mrs. Burton was resting an 
hour or so after breakfast. She assisted 
with the work whenever it was possible, 
but it was one of her doctor^s orders that 
she spend a part of each day as quietly as 
possible. 

Inside her tent she could hear Marie 
making their beds and sighing with each 
movement. Marie was still unreconciled. 
Still, she insisted upon wearing her con- 


( 109 ) 


no AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


ventional maid’s dress of black cloth in 
the mornings with white collars and cuffs 
and black silk in the afternoons, with 
always a tiny piece of white embroidery 
perched on top her shining black hair. She 
was very piquant, was Marie, but one can 
imagine how absurd she looked amid a 
group of Camp Fire girls in camp fire cos- 
tumes on a plateau in Arizona. 

However, Mrs. Burton was not worrying. 
Life at present was too delightful to allow 
small matters to count. And Marie would 
doubtless, become reconciled to the West, as 
many another equally homesick person has 
before her. 

The day was blue and silver, the sky 
almost cloudless, the sun turning the sands 
to silver and glistening white on the sum- 
mits of the cliffs beyond. But under the 
pine trees on top of the mesa it remained 
cool and serene. 

Gerry Williams was lying at full length 
on the ground near Mrs. Burton. This she 
usually managed to accomplish, no matter 
how the other girls might try to forestall 
her. Undoubtedly, except for Peggy 
Webster, she appeared to be Mrs. Burton’s 


UNDERCURRENTS 


111 


favorite, and Peggy was her own niece, 
almost her own child, as she had none of 
her own. But, then, Peggy was too straight- 
forward, too downright, to let any one get 
ahead of her, even so clever a girl as Gerry. 

Gerry had been shelling peas for luncheon, 
but had stopped with her task only half 
finished. 

At present, a few yards away, Peggy 
was seated, stripping the husks from a 
great pile of sweet corn. Her hair was not 
long and hung straight and black just below 
her shoulders. She wore a band of scarlet 
about her head, holding the hair back from 
her eyes. Peggy’s cheeks were crimson 
and her skin browner than ever from the 
Arizona sun. Partly to tease her and 
partly because she did look like an Indian, 
the other girls had recently insisted upon 
naming her Minnehaha, '^Laughing Water,” 
which Peggy considered ridiculous. 

She was not laughing at present, however, 
but frowning and keeping resolutely at her 
task. Bettina sat near her, reading. Vera 
was on the other side, peeling potatoes. 
In some curious fashion the more unpleasant 
tasks in camp appeared always to fall to 


112 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Vera. There are people in the world like 
this, so that one wonders if they select the 
tasks or if the tasks select them. Ahce 
Ashton and Ellen Deal were merely sewing 
on an outdoor costume for Ellen while 
Sally was pretending to write a letter. 

The cover had been firmly placed on her 
box of chocolates. She had produced a 
box from her pocket a short time before, 
but, as Camp Fire guardian, Mrs. Burton 
had really felt obliged to object. 

Too much eating of sweets was against 
all Camp Fire regulations. Moreover, 
where had Sally acquired such an inex- 
haustible supply? Terry Benton had been 
seen to appear with a box which he must 
have ridden a great many miles to secure. 
There must have been something about 
Sally which immediately suggested sweets 
to her young men friends. Although Mrs. 
Burton was secretly amused that the seri- 
ous-minded Dick and Esther Ashton should 
have so frivolous a daughter, Sally must be 
made to respect rules and preserve her 
health. 

^^Mrs. Burton, do you know what I am 
thinking of?” Gerry asked, with a soft 


UNDERCURRENTS 


113 


inflection in her voice which was very 
attractive. wish we had a Camp Fire 
name for you, but I canH think of any 
title lovely enough. Bettina,'' she called 
across, ^^you are everlastingly reading. 
^^What name can we give to the most 
delightful and gifted person in the world?’’ 

Gerry’s flattery was so transparent that 
Mrs. Burton laughed. 

But Bettina was so absorbed that she did 
not understand, for she did not answer at 
once. And for the first time at Gerry’s 
words, Polly observed that Bettina was 
reading when the girls were supposed to be 
at some kind of work. 

It was Peggy who replied with an unmis- 
takable lifting of her eyebrows. 

Why not call Tante the Queen of Sheba, 
Gerry, and be done with it? I suppose, 
because we know so httle about her, she 
has always seemed to me to be the most 
extraordinary of women. Then, she made 
Solomon answer all her questions, and I 
don’t believe even Tante could accomplish 
more than that.” 

Naturally the girls laughed at Peggy’s 
speech and Mrs. Burton as well; neverthe- 


114 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


less she did feel a little aggrieved. There 
had been a note of sarcasm in Peggy^s 
voice which she had never heard there before 
in any reference to her. Could the sar- 
casm have been intended for Gerry or for 
her? 

Polly was a little worried at the two girls^ 
attitude toward each other, yet the fault did 
appear to be Peggy^s. Could Peggy be a 
little jealous at her interest in a strange 
girl, of vrhose history she knew nothing. 

But Peggy had finished her task by this 
time and, getting up with a great kettle of 
corn swinging on her arm, remarked cheer- 
fully: ^^Glad I am through with my work, 
especially as I won^t be at home to eat any 
of the corn. You remember, Tante, that 
Bettina and Vera and I are going off for a 
ride with our new Camp Fire guide. We 
have finished our share of the work. 

Vera continued being busy for a few 
moments, but Bettina got up slowly, still 
holding the book half open in her hand. 

Something in her manner annoyed Mrs. 
Burton and she spoke quickly and thought- 
lessly after her old fashion: 

“You and Vera seem to have been indus- 


UNDERCURRENTS 


115 


trious enough, Peggy, but I cannot see that 
Bettina has done a conspicuous share 

She was sorry the next instant, for 
Bettina made no reply but, flushing, walked 
quietly away. 

She was not accustomed to criticism and 
it had been difficult to keep her temper. 

But Peggy waited until she was out of 
hearing and then deliberately set down her 
kettle. 

^^That was not fair of you, Tante, and 
you give a wrong impression of Bettina to 
the other girls. She was reading some 
Indian legends which I asked her to learn 
and tell at our camp fire this evening. 
They form as much a part of our honor work 
as other things, and I thought, if we were 
to visit the Indian reservations and see their 
summer festivals, it would be interesting to 
know more about them. Good-by; donT 
worry about us; we shanT be long.^^ 

Then off she and Vera went toward their 
sleeping tent in order to change to their 
riding clothes. 

They left Mrs. Burton feeling suddenly 
discouraged with herself as a Camp Fire 
guardian when, a few moments before, the 


116 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


atmosphere had been so serene. She was 
particularly sorry that the one girl with 
whom she seemed least able to get on was 
the daughter of her most beloved friend. 

But Gerry interrupted her train of 
thought. She was sitting up now, and 
close enough to take hold of Mrs. Burton^s 
hand. Gerry always appeared sweet tem- 
pered, no matter what occurred. 

'^You have not told us, nor let us choose 
a name for you,’^ she murmured with the 
half-affectionate and half-admiring manner 
which she always showed to the older 
woman. 

But this time Mrs. Burton was not 
interested. 

“Wait imtil I have earned a title. I ma}^ 
not be a worthy Camp Fire guardian. But, 
in any case, the girl among us whom we shall 
decide has done most for our camp fire 
during this summer shall have from me, if 
it is possible, the ^ft she most desires.’’ 

Then, before any one could answer, a 
man came toward them over the trail at 
the top of the mesa. 

He was not a prepossessing figure. He 
must have been over forty years old and 


UNDERCURRENTS 


117 


his skin looked as brown and as hard as 
the bark on a tree. Indeed, Sally Ashton 
insisted that he had once been a tree in the 
petrified forest nearby and, in some strange 
fashion, had been transformed into a man. 

Yet Mrs. Burton looked at him with 
pleasure. His age and his lack of attrac- 
tiveness was greatly in his favor, in her 
eyes. But, then, he carried himself erectly; 
walked with a long, swinging stride, vhich 
was peculiar to the West; and obviously 
had a sense of humor. 

Mr. Gardener had brought him to camp 
a few days before, to act as the second of 
the Sunrise Hill Camp Fire guides. Mrs. 
Burton must have made t^e Gardeners see 
that Terry Benton was an impossibility. 
Not that any fault was to be found with 
Terry himself except that his age or rather 
his youth was against him. 

The new guide Mr. Gardener introduced 
as an old friend of his — Mr. Jefferson 
Simpson — who was temporarily out of a 
job. The truth of the matter was, Mr. 
Simpson had been a fairly rich man until 
a few weeks before, but a silver mine he 
owned had suddenly ceased producing and 


118 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Mr. Simpson^s ranch and his money had 
gone to keep the stockholders from loss. 

At this moment he lifted his hat and, 
though he appeared perfectly polite, one 
could guess that he was secretly amused at 
his latest occupation. He may have had 
a variety of jobs in his day, but never 
anything like this. 

^^Good morning. The ponies are ready 
and need’ng exercise,^^ he announced. 

At this moment Marie appeared at the 
door of her mistress^ tent. 

Her costume was irreproachable; her 
figure as nearly perfect as a small, well- 
rounded personas figure can be. But 
Marie’s expression, as she surveyed the 
new guide, changed from the disconsolate 
to the disdainful. 

Evidently this was the type of man the 
West produced. He had no style, no man- 
ners — and his clothes!” As Marie gazed 
at the rough gray flannel shirt, the rusty 
gray hat and discolored khaki trousers, and 
her mind went back to the immaculate 
persons she was in the habit of seeing in 
the lobbies of the theaters on Broadway, she 
visibly shuddered. 


UNDERCURRENTS 


119 


It was barely possible that Mr. Jefferson 
Simpson understood her expression. 

“Perhaps Mamselle will come along; 
the trail may be a bit steep, but we shall 
not go far; and perhaps it may be best to 
have an older person with us. There is a 
little trick burro I can have ready in a 
moment.^^ 

Marie refused to reply; shrugging her 
shoulders, she vanished inside the tent. 

But Mrs. Burton exchanged a brief 
glance with the new Camp Fire guide. 
Did he also understand that Marie was 
extremely sensitive about her age and that 
she expected to be regarded as a girl, 
although undoubtedly she must have been 
nearer thirty than twenty. The shadow of 
a smile was exchanged between them. 

At the same instant Peggy and Vera and 
Bettina came out from their tent, having 
changed into their riding costumes — short 
skirts and trousers and high boots. 

Peggy kissed her aunt farewell and, rather 
shyly at her invitation, both Vera and 
Bettina followed suit. Not that Polly 
Burton was usually demonstrative, except 
with the few persons whom she really 


120 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


loved. But she wished to make amends 
to Bettina and, at the moment, this 
appeared the only w^ay. 

Later, she and the remaining four girls 
watched the others wind their way along 
the trail below the mesa and disappear 
toward the northwest. 

After lunch, when Polly had gone inside 
her tent to write her husband, and Alice 
and Ellen Dean were taking afternoon 
naps away from the heat of the early 
afternoon sun, Sally Ashton and Gerry 
Williams went down toward Cottonwood 
Creek together. They did not mention 
their going to any one, but it was cooler in 
the neighborhood of the creek. 


CHAPTER X 


The Ride 

HE three girls and Mr. Simpson 



were riding slowly across the Ari- 


zona sands toward the neighborhood 
of the Little Colorado River. 

It was true they were only on an explor- 
ing expedition, for they had solemnly prom- 
ised not to enter the region of the Painted 
Desert nor one of the Petrified Forests until 
the others could be with them, even if they 
should reach the borders. 

They were really impatiently waiting to 
make these expeditions, because of their 
Camp Fire guardian. It was she who had 
suggested that they first learn something 
of the routine of their new camp life and 
more of the cUmate of outdoors Arizona, 
before attempting any strenuous sight- 
seeing. The fact was — ^and the girls under- 
stood it — that Mrs. Burton was not yet 
strong enough to accompany them, and 
that she would be desolate at being left 
behind. For, in spite of all her travels 


( 121 ) 


122 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


and experience, she felt as much enthusiasm 
and excitement over their plans as any one 
of the Camp Fire girls. 

Nevertheless, she was willing to agree 
that it might be a good scheme to find out 
something of the nature of the country 
they were to journey across, and how difii- 
cult the traveling might be. As Peggy, 
Vera and Bettina were really more accus- 
tomed to riding than the other girls, they 
were permitted to undertake the first short 
trip alone. 

Their guide rode first, with Peggy next, 
Vera following and Bettina last. Their 
burros were more accustomed to moving 
in single file and, in most places the trail 
was so narrow, this was necessary. 

Because the day was so brilliant, at first 
the glare of the sun was uncomfortable. 
They rode for several miles beyond the 
ranch before seeing anything except 
stretches of sand broken by an occasional 
mesa towering many feet above them, or 
else a tiny oasis in the midst of the sands. 
But beyond them, always in dim outline, 
were the cliffs bordering the smaller canyons 
of the Little Colorado. 


THE RIDE 


123 


With Vera between them, Bettina and 
Peggy found it difficult e\en to call out 
often to each other. 

Yet, unconsciously perhaps, there were 
already three little groups amid the new 
Camp Fire club. Bettina and Peggy had 
been friends ever since they were little 
girls and, while they might be unlike and 
might now and then disapprove the one of 
the other, yet always they were loyal and 
devoted. Vera was in a way an odd side 
to the triangle. 

For .several years Peggy had known her; 
indeed, they had met soon after Vera^s 
father had come to the Webster farm. But 
there had been no intimacy between the 
two girls. It was Billyhs odd friendship 
with the Russian ^rl that had led his 
mother to take an interest in her and ask 
her to join the Camp Fire club, of which 
she was guardian. 

And it was Billy who had commended 
Vera to his sister ^s interest just before the 
girls left on the western trip together. 

^‘Be good to Vera, please, Peggy. She 
is queer like I am, and perhaps we don’t 
think about things as other people do. But 


124 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


she is the bravest person in the world and 
the truest, once she cares for you. She 
does not talk much, but try to understand 
her.’^ 

And Peggy was trying, partly for Billy’s 
sake and partly for Vera’s own. She had 
a strange feeling about her younger brother 
— a feeling his entire family shared. None 
of them could decide whether he was going 
to be a genius or whether he was just 
“queer,” with the genius left out. And 
this subtle difference is perhaps the most im- 
portant fact in this world. So Billy’s family 
worried over him and were frequently angry 
with him, and yet never forgot him. 

Then Vera was interesting in herself. 
She was not so shy as her companions 
believed; in reality, her shyness was more 
reserve while she was quietly studying their 
temperaments. It may be that she had 
some plan in mind which might some day 
make this knowledge valuable. In the 
meantime she quietly attached herself to 
the company of Peggy and Bettina. Now 
and then the two girls were a little bored 
by it, preferring to be alone, and yet they 
did not wish to appear unkind. 


THE RIDE 


125 


This morning Peggy would like to have 
discussed several questions with Bettina, 
but not before Vera, since they were inti- 
mate personal subjects, not camp fire 
matters. In fact, they concerned Gerry 
Williams and her aunt, for Peggy had 
noticed something which she believed no 
one else had. 

Bi/t the three girls would not dismount 
to rest or eat lunch until they came to the 
neighborhood of the river. They were not 
far, now, from the Painted Desert. Beyond 
were the buttes where the Hopi Indians 
had built their villages so that far above 
the plain they might be safe from the wild 
Apaches. 

The girls found a shelter of rocks near 
the river. Below was a steep descent to 
the water. 

Vera was serving the luncheon; Peggy 
was lying flat down on the warm rocks with 
her arms outstretched; while Bettina sat 
with her chin in her hand, watching the 
far horizon. 

wonder if we shall ever come across 
that young Indian again?” Vera said unex- 
pectedly. She happened at the moment to 


126 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


be passing a paper napkin filled with sand- 
wiches to Bettina. 

^^Yes/’ Bettina answered in a matter-of- 
fact fashion so that Peggy turned her head 
toward her and stared. 

Why do you think so, Anacaona, Flower 
of Gold?” she inquired slowly, smiling and 
using Bettina’s Indian Camp Fire name 
purposely. ^^Did he tell you at your first 
meeting that he meant to find you again?” 

Bettina shook her head, but she had 
flushed and was sitting upright, her expres- 
sion puzzled, but no longer dreaming. 

^Ht was funny for me to say that, wasn’t 
it? But perhaps Vera’s asking me the 
question at that moment was odd. No; 
I suppose it wasn’t. It was natural that 
we should both be thinking of the Indian 
villages, with the outline of them before 
us and all of us so curious to see what 
they are like. And I — oh, well, why 
shouldn’t I be truthful? You may be 
amused or think I am ridiculous, if you 
like. But I have felt, all along, our meet- 
ing with the Indian was not just accidental. 
We are sure to see him again and I know 
he wiU make our stay out here more inter- 


THE RIDE 


127 


esting if we do. He can teach us such a 
lot of things.” 

^^And I suppose Bettina can teach him 
nothing. Queer you liked him, Bettina, 
when you are usually so shy with stran- 
gers,” Peggy said slowly. In reality, she 
was paying but little attention to what 
she was saying, for she was almost asleep. 
The sun was so hot and the wind so sweet, 
and they had ridden steadily for several 
hours. Peggy did not know that she could 
feel such a pagan as she had in this past 
week. No wonder the primitive outdoor 
peoples worshiped the Sun God. 

Mr. Simpson had gone to give the burros 
water and would be back in quarter of an 
hour. In reality, she was more sleepy than 
hungry, and they must soon go on with 
their riding. 

This time Peggy closed her eyes entirely, 
although still believing that she was only 
drowsy and not asleep. And yet, the in- 
stant after, she felt her own arm lifted from 
the rock where it had been extended and 
flung violently across her body. Then she 
heard a cry from Bettina and saw her 
spring up. 


128 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Vera’s movement had been too quick for 
Peggy either to see or hear. But, getting 
up she now saw that Vera must have leaped 
forward and seized her arm in order to save 
her. She must have acted instantaneously 
and instinctively, for there had been no 
time for taking thought. Now she was 
leaning against a rock, with her face slightly 
pale and her lips set. Just beyond lay a 
rattlesnake with its head crushed against 
the opposite ledge of stone. 

“That was one of the quickest and brav- 
est things I ever saw anyone do, Vera,” 
Bettina said, her own face paler than the 
girl’s to whom she spoke. “I believe I 
saw that snake about to strike at Peggy’s 
arm at almost the same instant you did, 
but I was too paralyzed with horror to 
cry out; certainly I did not move. But 
I shall never forget, Vera, and I am more 
than grateful to you.” 

Peggy laughed, but a little uncertainly, 
although she was really less concerned than 
the other two girls, not having been aware 
of her own danger. 

“After all, Bettina dear, I am the one 
to be grateful to Vera — not you.” 


THE RIDE 


129 


She held out her hand. There was always 
something a trifle boyish about Peggy, she 
was so direct. 

^Ht would have been pretty horrid to 
have started the summer with an accident, 
and Tante would have been absurdly wor- 
ried. BiUy told me what a lot of courage 
you had. I should have been sorry if you 
had suffered because of me. It was stupid 
of me to have been so careless. Enough 
people have warned us to look out for dan- 
gers here, but the country is so alluring 
one forgets that evil things love the sun as 
well as the good. 

But Vera had come forward and was 
picking up the scattered luncheon, which 
she had thrown down in her haste. 

Please donT say anything more,^’ she 
remarked a little impatiently. ^^What I 
did was the simplest thing in the world. 
You must remember I have lived outdoors 
and worked in the fields since I was a little 
girl. In Russia we used to take the babies 
out to the fields in baskets, and some one 
had to watch by them. Promise me not 
to speak of this again.’' Vera flushed. 
'"Billy is mistaken in thinking I am brave; 


130 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


only there are some things I am not afraid 
of. I am a coward about others.^^ 

There was no doubting her sincerity 
and, while Peggy was hesitating what to 
say next, Mr. Simpson came along the path 
leading one of the burros, the others meekly 
following their leader. 

A few moments later the girls mounted 
and started on again. The afternoon^s 
ride was to be more difficult. They were 
planning to follow an old trail which led 
along the side of the river and now and 
then came close to the cliffs and deep ravines 
which fringed the river bed on the northern 
side. 

They rode as they had in the morning, 
with the guide ahead and Bettina in the 
rear. But if the girls had any desire to 
Exchange confidences at present, it was out 
of the question. One might be familiar 
with horse-back riding and fairly valiant 
in spirit and yet, according to the old phrase, 
find one’s heart in one’s mouth every few 
minutes. 

In places the trail was scarcely a yard 
wide, with a sheer wall of rock on one 
side and a sharp precipice on the other. 


THE RIDE 


131 


Yet the burros moved on as serenely as if 
they had been following a main traveled 
road. 

Bettina wondered half a dozen times if 
the other girls felt as nervous as she did. 
Once or twice she smiled, remembering 
her previous experiences in riding. In the 
country, visiting Peggy, she had ridden over 
the fields occasionally, but ordinarily her 
riding had been confined to a riding school 
in Washington, or to morning rides in the 
parks and suburbs of Washington. It 
was true that she had been a little vain of 
her ability at jumping hurdles in the rid- 
ing school contests, but her father had never 
been willing to have her take fences in 
English fashion in cross-country rides. 
Now, however, she wished that she had 
learned not how to jump hurdles but how 
to keep her seat winding up an almost 
perpendicular trail without being frightened. 
The little burro jogged along, now appar- 
ently standing nearly upright, now swinging 
from side to ^e, but of course the rider was 
perfectly safe so long as the burro did not 
slip. And this they never did — or so one 
was always told in the burro country. 


132 AT THE'DESERT^S EDGE 


Every once in a while Mr. Simpson 
would look back and call out reassuringly, 
and Bettina would unite with the other 
girls in cheerful replies. 

Really, the scenery was so wonderful, 
it was annoying not to be able to give it 
one’s full attention! 

Ahead Bettina saw the trail rising almost 
to a peak in front and narrowing at the 
same time. Involuntarily she reined in her 
burro and thus dropped a few yards further 
behind the other riders. Then it occurred 
to her that she would prefer walking and 
leading her burro for a part of the way. 
In this fashion she could rest and enjoy 
the landscape and, though Bettina did not 
make the confession to herself, she had 
really more confidence in herself than she 
had in her burro. 

Calling ahead her intention to the others, 
she believed they heard. Indeed, she 
thought she heard Peggy laugh in her 
teasing, boyish fashion. Then Bettina 
dismounted, but kept the reins in her 
hands. The others could not travel very 
rapidly up so steep and rocky an incline, 
and so would not get far in advance. In 


THE RIDE 


133 


case they did, they must of course wait 
for her until she caught up. 

But Bettina was not to find walking so 
easy as she had expected, and then her 
burro would not go slowly. He kept trot- 
ting on ahead, forcing Bettina to run beside 
him on the narrow path until she was out 
of breath. The stones cut even into her 
heavy-soled riding boots. 

She was angry; the burro was so stupid 
— so ridiculously devoted to one idea — like 
stupid human beings frequently are. He 
had been trained to follow his companions, 
and follow them he would at whatever cost. 
The other bimros were forging ahead so 
that, apparently, his reputation depended 
on keeping his place in the line. 

Once Bettina stumbled and heard the 
earth sliding down the ravine, but would 
not look. All her life gazing down upon 
great distances had made her sick and dizzy, 
but then a great many persons are affected 
in this same fashion. 

Regaining her foothold, Bettina must at 
the same time have lost both her temper 
and her judgment. With the idea of forc- 
ing her burro to walk, she struck him with 


134 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


a small switch which she had picked up 
along the way. 

Immediately, shaking his obstinate head, 
he jerked and ducked at the same instant. 
Clumsily Bettina lost her hold on the 
bridle and then beheld her small steed go 
plowing up the narrow incline, leaving 
her well behind. 

The situation was so absurd and a little 
tiresome. However, Bettina realized she 
had brought it on herself, though this is 
but small consolation in adversity. 

Alone, Bettina walked more slowly. 
After all, was she as sure-footed as she had 
presumed? There was comfort in the idea 
that, as soon as her burro rejoined the 
others, they would find out she had dis- 
appeared and wait until she came up to 
them. 

Bettina did not realize that, hearing her 
burro jogging on behind at an even pace, 
the girls naturally believed she was riding 
him. One could not easily look behind 
during such an ascent. 

Mr. Simpson, in front, also failed to miss 
Bettina for about five minutes. The time 
could not have been longer than that. 


THE RIDE 


135 


Until then, glancing back of him he could 
see the three burros, but of the riders only 
Peggy who rode next him. And he heard 
no cry of any kind. 

Finally they reached a broader space — 
a kind of small plateau where there was a 
wonderful view of the river and of the giant 
depression to the northwest that cradled 
the famous Painted Desert. 

^'Suppose we rest for a moment,’’ Mr. 
Simpson called back. 

Stepping off his broncho, for his legs 
almost touched the ground as he rode, Mr. 
Simpson turned to Peggy. Then, in a 
flash he discovered the third burro stopping 
quietly when the others did, but without 
a rider. 

“Miss Graham has chosen to walk up 
the trail; I’ll go and see if I can help,” 
he said hastily. And before Peggy and 
Vera were fully aware of Bettina’s dis- 
appearance, their guide had started down 
again. 

“Tiresome of Bettina. Why did she 
not tell us if she meant to dismount?” 
Peggy said irritably. She was not nervous, 
but the trail was a winding one, and she 


136 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


could not yet see Bettina climbing up 
toward them. They must, in a few mo- 
ments, of course. 

They waited five moments; then ten. 
At the end of fifteen minutes Mr. Simpson 
returned. 

We had best start back on the homeward 
trail. I don’t understand my not being 
able to find Miss Graham. I must look 
more thoroughly as we go down. 

Jefferson Simpson was not the kind of 
man who lost his nerve. He had con- 
fronted difficult situations a good many 
times in his rather strenuous existence. 
The idea of playing guide to a number of 
young women had struck him as an amusing 
departure. He had been a rancher, a 
miner, a cowboy, an Indian agent. Why 
not add another role to his many parts for 
a few months at least? It had not struck 
him that his new occupation might have a 
serious side. At present, however, it did. 
He did not like not having found Bettina. 
There was simply no accounting for her 
disappearance in so short a time, and along 
a trail where no one else had lately passed. 

Fortunately Mr. Simpson’s manner never 


THE RIDE 


137 


betrayed his emotions. Before Peggy and 
Vera he behaved as if Bettina must be 
comfortably awaiting them not far off. 
But, while he led Bettina^s riderless burro, 
both girls saw that he stared over the 
sides of the ravines every foot along the 
route. 

And they looked, too, although the 
thought that any human being should ever 
slip in some of the places made one ill. 

In a little more than an hour, when 
they had again reached the place where 
they had eaten lunch and without finding 
Bettina, the new guide insisted that Peggy 
and Vera find their way back alone to 
their camp. 

It was a difficult situation to know what 
one should do; but they must take their 
chances of finding the route. Mrs. Burton 
must learn what had become of them. 

And to desert the lost! Jefferson Simp- 
son’s queer brown face twisted. “This is 
a sheep country, you know, and I’ve been 
a shepherd along with the rest of my jobs. 
'There were ninety and nine.’ Remember 
the rest of that old song. Tell Mrs. Bur- 
ton I’ll be home with the one that is lost 


138 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 

in a short time after you get there. 
Good-by.^’ 

So Vera and Peggy, seeing that there 
was nothing wiser to be done than follow 
their guide’s advice, waved farewell to him 
and took the long trail alone toward camp. 
But they did not mind the journey if they 
could have known where Bettina had 
vanished. 


CHAPTER XI 


Dawn Light 

I T was curious that the guide had not 
seen the place where Bettina had fallen. 
A few moments after her burro had 
deserted her, Bettina, hurrying up the 
incline to join her companions, slipped on 
a loose stone. Yet this would not have 
been serious had she given up and allowed 
herself to go. Instead she stumbled side- 
ways, tried to regain her balance, stumbled 
a second time, and then, looking down, 
found herself at the edge of a ravine that 
had a sheer descent of thirty or more feet. 
Even now Bettina might have saved her- 
self by dropping down on her knees or 
flinging herself backward. But the sight 
of the precipice must have made her dizzy, 
or else she was too frightened to think. 
For she went over quietly and without 
even a cry for help. And afterwards she 
did not call out. In falling Bettina’s 
head had struck against a jutting rock, so 

( 139 ) 


140 AT THE DESERT'S EDGE 


that she lay crumpled up between two 
walls of stone with a deep crevice between 
them. Her position was a strange one. 
She seemed to be sitting in a giant chair, 
except that one leg was bent beneath her 
and her head drooped forward on her 
breast. 

Yet the stones and earth were misplaced 
where Bettina had slipped, and if the 
searchers had been less anxious, or more 
accustomed to their task, they must have 
found her. Mr. Simpson had not this 
second excuse. When he went back, after 
leaving Peggy and Vera, he did discover 
the place where Bettina had disappeared, 
but by that time Bettina was not there. 

Yet, certainly an hour had not passed 
since her two friends and their escort had 
gone slowly past. 

It was perhaps about fifteen minutes 
after they had gone when a young man 
appeared on the same trail. He was not 
riding, but walking more swiftly and more 
surely than any four-footed animal trained 
to the western trails. 

He wore an odd costume — a soft shirt 
of an unbleached cotton almost the color 


DAWN LIGHT 


141 


of the yellow sand; a pair of leather trousers 
fringed at the knee and held about the 
waist with a broad leather belt brightly 
decorated in beads, forming designs of 
animals and birds. His legs were bare 
and his feet in moccasins. 

Yet he was whistling as he came along — 
an unusual air and an unusual act for an 
Indian. He was whisthng the “Marseil- 
laise,’’ perhaps the greatest song of national 
freedom in the world. And the young man 
was an Indian, although his skin was only 
a light bronze. The carriage of his head, 
the free movements of his body, and in 
some strange way his expression betrayed 
him. 

So far as one could have observed him, 
he seemed to be looking neither to the 
right nor the left; neither the glory of the 
encircling ledge of blue hills nor the river 
gorge interesting him. Nevertheless, when 
he came to the spot where Bettina had 
lost her footing, he stopped as abruptly as 
an animal who is suddenly arrested by an 
unexpected smell. 

The next instant the young Indian was 
lying across the trail, with his head extend- 


142 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


ing over the ledge and gazing down at the 
broken shelves of rock. 

At first he could see nothing unusual. 

It was afternoon and the sun was cast- 
ing a brilliant, slanting light across the 
ravine. For the instant it blinded one. 
The next, the Indian^s keen eyes were 
caught by what looked like a golden ball 
caught between a wide split in two rocks 
about midway of the precipice. The illu- 
sion was a ridiculous one and yet it made 
one think of some golden legend of the sun. 

However, almost before the impression 
came it was gone, and the Indian discov- 
ered a figure held between the two rocks. 
He could not, of course, see anything except 
that the figure was a woman’s, and that the 
sunlight had made the hair a bright amber. 

Yet, it was so extraordinary to find a 
human being alone and in such a plight, 
it is small wonder that the young man re- 
mained staring. He was a dreamer also. 
No man or woman can spend long hours 
in great open spaces alone with only the 
wind and the sky and the desert for com- 
pany without being either a dreamer or a 
fool. Soon after he began climbing down 


DAWN LIGHT 


143 


the sides of the ravine as quickly and as 
unafraid as another man might descend the 
rounds of a ladder. 

He used both his hands and feet, step- 
ping from one almost invisible projection 
to another, until he reached the sununit 
of what appeared like a stone chair with 
two great sides in which Bettina was im- 
prisoned. Then he dropped lightly down 
to the ledge and stood upright about a 
foot away from the still figure. 

She was not a woman, but a girl; this 
he saw at once, and she appeared only 
unconscious. A cut was bleeding where 
her head must have struck. Yet what 
could have happened that she could be 
thus alone? 

Several times the young Indian called. 
No answer came. Then he lifted Bettina 
and began the ascent of the slope. Another 
man — not accustomed to the outdoors and 
not an athlete — could not have accom- 
plished the feat of getting Bettina back on 
the trail again without assistance. She 
was slender enough, but tall and at pres- 
ent a dead weight. 

Nevertheless the young Indian lifted her 


144 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


across his shoulder and, holding her with 
one arm, climbed up the way he had come. 
He was panting and his mouth set with 
fatigue and determination, however, when 
he finally brought her to the small plateau 
where he could lay her down comfortably. 
It was the place where her loss had been 
discovered a short time before. 

The Indian must have known the local- 
ity, for he went away and in a little while 
came back with water which he held in a 
giant cactus leaf. 

But Bettina did not respond to the cool 
water on her face, nor to the air, nor her 
change of position. 

Plainly her rescuer was puzzled what 
to do next. He stood erect a few moments 
gazing up and down the trail, as if finding 
it impossible to believe that the girl he had 
just found had been deserted by her friends. 
Yet, calling again, he had no answer. 

Something must be done; she must be 
taken to some one who would properly 
care for her. How else could one know 
how serious her injury? She appeared to 
be only stunned by her fall, and yet the 
cut near her temple might be serious. 


DAWN LIGHT 


145 


A second time the Indian picked up 
Bettma. This time, instead of continuing 
along the trail in the direction he had been 
taking, he turned backward; otherwise he 
must have met Mr. Simpson. 

But the young man knew of no one in 
that direction to whom he could safely 
deliver his charge, while a few miles to the 
north near the border of the Painted Des- 
ert was one of the wisest persons in his 
acquaintance. He had to leave the river 
trail and strike across the sand dunes, but 
the way was familiar. The distance meant 
but little for the Indian walked so swiftly. 

Once he thought he felt the figure he 
carried stir a little, but looking closely 
could see no change. 

Nevertheless it was about an hour before 
sunset when the Indian came to the friend 
he sought in the neighborhood of the des- 
ert. Nearer now he could see the ancient 
terraces of the five Hopi villages built on 
top the three mesas on the far side of the 
desert, and only to be entered by long 
climbing up the precipitous walls. 

But the home he sought was not in one 
of the villages. 


10 



A Second Time the Indian Picked dp Bettina 

( 146 ) 


DAWN LIGHT 


147 


The Indian would not have confessed, 
but he was glad when he saw a small house, 
apparently built of clay dried by the sun, 
standing with one wall formed of a sand- 
stone cliff. 

Squatting in front of this house was an 
Indian woman who appeared very old. 
She had a big jar of brown pottery before 
her and with a yucca stem was making a 
geometric design upon it. This was Nampu, 
who had come from the village of Hano to 
settle at the edge of the desert, the better 
to pursue her work unobserved. She was 
one of the most famous pottery makers in 
all the region. But she was more than 
this. Nampu was a medicine woman. 
It is one of the peculiarities of the Hopi 
Indians that they have medicine women as 
well as medicine men. 

The young Indian laid Bettina down at 
old Nampu^s feet. 

^^She had fallen over a cliff; I found her 
and did not know what to do. Therefore 
I came to you,^’ he explained as briefly 
as possible. 

But the Indian woman made no reply 
at all; she merely grunted. However, she 


148 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


put down her work and, picking Bettina 
up, disappeared inside her house. 

The young man lay down on a mat out- 
side the opening which served for the door. 
Ten minutes went by. He could hear the 
woman moving about inside. Then he 
thought he heard a voice that was not an 
Indian’s. 

Afterwards Nampu came out and sat 
down at her pottery again. 

^‘She will be all right soon. Sleep now 
best. Awake, tell us where she come from. 
Then you can go find friends.” 

So they waited and Se-kyal-ets-tewa saw 
the sun setting behind his village and heard 
the pecuhar bark of the coyote that comes 
at evening, and the short, quick yelp of 
the prairie wolf. 

Only once did the companions speak. 
Then the young man asked. 

Where is Dawapa?” 

‘^She come later; gone to get water.” 

Really it was Bettina who aroused them 
both. 

The Indian woman had taken off her 
shoes, so she came quite noiselessly and 
stood at the doo^- of the hut. 


DAWN LIGHT 


149 


She was puzzled beyond understanding 
by what must have happened to her. But 
she was not frightened. For Bettina was 
not made nervous or unhappy by the cir- 
cumstances that would have alarmed most 
girls, but by little ordinary things which 
would have affected some girls not at all. 

Now the beauty and the strangeness of 
the scene before her filled her with an 
emotion that was part pleasure and part 
pain. The evening was so beautiful. Never 
had she seen such a glory of color in the 
sky, and the Indian woman and the youth 
outside the door were like sentinels of some 
past age. 

Curiously it was Bettina who recognized 
having seen her rescuer before. He had 
not known her as the girl whom he had 
met on the train coming west in all the 
distance he had carried her to Nampu’s 
hut. But, then, Bettina^s eyes were closed, 
her face smeared with blood and dirt, and 
she was wearing a costume that seemed 
strange to the young man. It was in a 
way like an Indian girFs and yet oddly 
different. For Bettina was wearing only 
a part of her Camp Fire costume — the rid- 


150 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


ing trousers and boots being an original 
departure — because of the unusual circum- 
stances of their present camp fire life in 
Arizona. 

As soon as she walked toward him the 
Indian got up and stood as erect as he 
had that day of their first odd meeting. 
But this second time was far more in- 
teresting. 

One could not have mistaken him for 
any other nation than his own at this hour. 

Still he showed no sign of ever having 
seen Bettina before until she put out her 
hand. 

have something to be grateful to you 
for; 1 am not sure just how grateful I should 
he” she began. ^^But 1 am glad that it 
is some one I have met before who has 
helped me. Now will you be good enough 
to tell me how I can manage to get back 
to my friends. We are camping at one 
end of the Gardener’s ranch near the 
neighborhood of Cottonwood Creek. Is 
there any way I could drive back?” Bet- 
tina smiled. “I am perfectly all right, 
only I do feel a little weak and tired. Yet 
my friends will be so uncomfortable not to 


DAWN LIGHT 


151 


know what has become of me. You re- 
member meeting Mrs. Burton, don’t you?” 

^^Yes,” the young man answered. 

Nampu grunted again. 

You stay here the night; Gardener ranch 
fifteen, twenty mile away. Tewa tired.” 

The young Indian shook his head. 

^'1 will find your camp tonight. You 
must stay here. Miss Graham.” He had 
not forgotten Bettina’s name, at least. 

But now it appeared strange to have 
him speak and behave in so quiet and 
well-bred a fashion. Seeing him in an 
Indian costume, here in the land of his 
birth and among his own friends, one for- 
got the young man’s college training, and 
all that was supposed to go with it. 

^^But the distance! It is not possible,” 
Bettina urged. 

The young man’s lips arched, showing 
white, strong teeth. 

^‘1 have been winner of the prize as 
runner at our Snake ceremony. If that is 
not enough, I won the championship of the 
United States in the University long-dis- 
tance running contests this spring.” 

Before Bettina could reply, the sound of 


152 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


some one approaching caught her atten- 
tion. 

Then, as she turned, she saw a girl of 
about her own age coming near, holding 
on her shoulder a large water jug. But 
the strange fact was that the girl was blond 
— fairer than she herself or than Gerry. In- 
deed, she had hair light as corn silk, pale 
blue eyes and a too white skin. Neverthe- 
less she was dressed like an Indian maiden. 
Her hair was arranged over her ears in 
great puffs resembling squash blossoms, 
signifying among the tribes of the Pueblo 
Indians that the girl is unmarried. 

“This is Dawapa,” the old Indian woman 
said civilly. 

But Dawapa went shyly and quickly by 
into the house, not waiting for any explana- 
tion of Bettina’s presence in her home. 

And it was not until afterwards that 
Bettina learned Dawapa was an Albino, 
and that there are such girls and boys born 
now and then among the Hopis. 


CHAPTER XII 


The Painted Desert 

B y noon the next day Mrs. Burton 
and her niece arrived at Nampu^s 
house near the Painted Desert to 
find Bettina. 

The Indian showed them the way. 

The night before, he had appeared at the 
new Sunrise Hill camp at a little after ten 
o^clock, finding only Mrs. Burton and a few 
of the girls there. Peggy and Vera and 
Ellen Deal had insisted upon joining the 
searching party from the Gardener ranch 
led by Terry Benton, who had gone out to 
look for Bettina. 

Fortunately the Indian had come upon 
them and told them of her rescue on his 
way to camp so they were following behind 
more slowly. It was thus that he arrived 
alone. 

Mrs. Burton^s welcome was very enthu- 
siastic; indeed, she showed even more 
gratitude and friendliness than Bettina. 

( 153 ) 


154 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


In a way she was more relieved. Moreover, 
almost at once she recognized the young 
man as the one whom they had met on the 
train. 

She was walking alone up and down near 
the border of their mesa, and had been 
doing this almost without ceasing ever since 
Vera and Peggy returned bringing the news 
of Bettina’s loss. They did not mention 
what they feared, but the same impression 
came readily enough to the others. And 
Mrs. Burton thought of almost nothing else. 

Over and over she kept repeating to 
herself that if an accident must happen to 
one of the Camp Fire girls, it had better 
have been any girl than Bettina. But 
not because she cared for her most. 

The Arizona night was very clear, so 
that she saw the Indian a long way off. 
For the first few moments she hoped, of 
course, that the oncoming figure might be 
Bettina’s; but a little later the idea was 
impossible. For she recognized that the 
figure was a man^s, and from his odd cos- 
tume that he must be an Indian. 

He came striding on toward the mesa, 
swiftly climbed the steep path and walked 


THE PAINTED DESERT 155 


directly up to Mrs. Burton, who was wait- 
ing there alone. The girls were in their 
tents — not sleeping, but talking together 
in low voices. Sally and Gerry were 
whispering — a fashion they frequently 
indulged in. 

Ten minutes before, Marie had urged 
her mistress to he down, but Mrs. Burton 
had insisted that she would be far less 
nervous if allowed to remain out of doors. 

came with news of Miss Graham; 
she is safe,” the young Indian announced 
as soon as he was within speaking distance, 
sensibly relieving PoUy’s anxiety at once. 

Something — the curious contrast between 
his cultivated manner and voice and his 
costume — ^made Mrs. Burton recognize him 
at once. 

“Then our meeting on the train was a 
happy accident. I felt it might be,” she 
returned cordially, holding out her hand. 

“Sit down beside me, please, and tell me 
just what has happened.” 

Now, that the strain was over, Mrs. 
Burton felt oddly weak in the knees, as one 
often does after a period of anxiety. 

Yet, later, when she knew that Bettina 


156 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


was safe and not seriously hurt, Mrs. 
Burton found that her sense of romance had 
not so completely disappeared that she 
did not enjoy continuing to sit there for a 
few added moments. 

The young Indian was so handsome; his 
personahty and his appearance so fitted 
into the unusual and picturesque landscape. 
Then there was something in his grave 
courtesy which pleased the older woman. 

He slept that night wrapped in a blanket 
on the mesa at some distance from Mrs. 
Burton^s tent, next morning acting as her 
escort. 

But it was not possible that the little 
party of three start off at once. First, Mrs. 
Gardener had to be persuaded to come 
down from the ranch house to spend the 
day and night with the other Camp Fire 
girls. For Polly had concluded, since 
Nampu^s house was so near the Painted 
Desert, the girls could come on the follow- 
ing day and join her there for their first 
expedition into the desert. 

On their arrival Polly had found Bettina 
a httle pale and tired, but otherwise wonder- 
fully recovered from Nampu^s healing herbs. 


THE PAINTED DESERT 157 


Then, after a little talk, the three girls — 
Bettina, Peggy and the Indian girl — ^had 
wandered off, while all afternoon Mrs. 
Burton sat with old Nampu and Se-kyal- 
ets-tewa. 

He did not seem to care to be with the 
girls. 

Mrs. Burton wondered at this. Yet she 
did not understand Indian customs. 

There was undoubtedly a deep intimacy 
between Nampu and the young man. 
Could it be possible that the daughter, 
Dawapa, was the bond? 

Although living at a little distance from 
her own people, Nampu was a distinguished 
woman among them. In the Indian world 
there was no more famous maker of pottery. 
Her daughter was being trained to the same 
work. Nampu was a typical squaw — 
silent, a little dirty, squatting all day in 
the sun, with only her wonderful old 
wrinkled hands moving like an artistes and 
setting her apart from the rest of her 
tribe. 

About the daughter it was more difficult 
to determine. She seemed abnormally 
shy — more like a frightened wild animal 


158 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


than a human being. Then it was difficult 
to determine whether her odd appearance 
made her beautiful or ugly. Doubtless her 
own people might think her beautiful, 
because of the contrast her fairness offered. 

Nevertheless the Indian boy was so 
unlike either Nampu or her daughter, 
separated from them by what appeared like 
centuries in education and feeling. 

Yet, watching him today, the great 
actress was not so sure. She liked to study 
faces and temperaments. The Indian had 
changed since their meeting on the train. 
Then he had been far more like an American 
or, rather, like the type we now regard as 
American, since, after all, he had the first 
right to this name. But in this short time 
since his homecoming, he was not the same. 
It may be that his Indian costume made 
the difference. Yet it would be interesting 
to see just how much influence modern 
civilization did have upon the Indian char- 
acter. Was it not, after all, just a veneer- 
ing, and would the young man not return 
to his own customs and his own people 
when the American influence was removed? 

They were sitting in front of Nampu’s 


THE PAINTED DESERT 159 


house while Mrs. Burton made these re- 
flections. She was resting in the shadow of 
the chffs behind the hut on a splendid 
Indian blanket of black and red. Near her 
Nampu was molding a great earthenware 
bowl, shaped and colored hke a great red 
disk cut in two and hollowed on the inside. 
Around it the crude outline of a snake lay 
coiled. Already Polly had asked to be 
allowed to purchase it. 

A few yards off Se-kyal-ets-tewa sat 
upright with his legs crossed underneath 
him. He was silent unless he was spoken 
to, but he seemed to keep his eyes flxed on 
the three girls who formed another group 
at some distance off. 

None of his new acquaintances at their 
second meeting thought of or spoke to 
the Indian by the English name of John 
Mase — the name by which he had intro- 
duced himself on the train. 

Suddenly Mrs. Burton turned to him. 
hope you will come to see us as often 
as possible at camp,’’ she began, speaking 
with her usual impulsiveness and thinking 
it might be amusing to study the different 
influences at work in the Indian youth. 


160 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


'‘1 would like to have you teach us of your 
people and some day take us to your village 
perhaps. Later on we are hoping to see 
your great August festivals.” 

Mrs. Burton had not meant to be con- 
descending, but there may have been an 
unconscious suggestion in her tone. The 
Indian hesitated and frowned. Then, see- 
ing that the three girls were coming toward 
Nampu’s house, he rose up. 

Thank you,” he answered, but without 
signifying whether his reply meant agree- 
ment. 

Next day Peggy Webster asked him the 
same question. 

She and Bettina and Dawapa were stand- 
ing in a small group at the entrance of the 
Painted Desert, waiting for the others 
to join them. They had walked from 
Nampu’s house — a distance of only a mile 
or two. 

^^You will not disappoint us, Se-kyal- 
ets-tewa,” Peggy urged, thrusting her hands 
into her pockets in a boyish fashion and 
nodding her head vigorously. ^^But if 
you do decide to come won^t you give us 
some other name to call you by? Life 


THE PAINTED DESERT 161 


isn^t very long at best and Se-kyal-ets- 
tewa ■” 

The Indian smiled. He understood and 
liked Peggy, as all other boys and men who 
were worth while did. She was so simple 
and straightforward and so without the 
least trace of coquetry. 

^^Yes, if Mrs. Burton and the rest of you 
really wish it, I will come when I can, 
although I have other more important work 
to do,” he answered proudly. Then smiling 
again, Perhaps the last two syllables of 
my name will be less difficult. Tewa alone 
means ^Keeper of the Trail.’ ” 

He was looking directly at Peggy and 
talking to her, not appearing to notice 
Bettina nor the Indian girl. 

Nevertheless Bettina replied: 

“I was lucky when you chanced to be 
the ^Keeper of my Trail’ yesterday.” 
She was smiling, also, and yet she spoke 
seriously. ^^I wish I knew how to thank 
you.” 

A moment afterwards the entire party 
was entering the Painted Desert. 

It was as if they had come into a country 
where, long centuries ago. Titanic artists 


162 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 

and alchemists had poured out their paints 
and jewels. 

The mounds of earth with plateau-like 
surfaces called mesas were red, blue, green 
or orange and took strange, fantastic shapes. 

Fallen between the mesa were petrified 
trees which had spht open and were filled 
with precious stones. Now and then a 
petrified tree appeared embedded in the 
sandstone of the mesa showing along its side. 

No one of the party realized how many 
miles were walked that day. Neverthe- 
less, after a time, Bettina naturally grew 
weary. Yet she did not wish to mention 
her fatigue, realizing that she had simply 
not entirely recovered from her experience 
of thirty-six hours before. 

So, whenever it was possible she sat 
down, allowing the others to wander on 
without her. 

They were about to start on the home- 
ward journey when she chanced to speak 
to Tewa again, and this time they were 
alone. 

Bettina was sitting in the sand with her 
chin in her hand by the side of a giant 
petrified tree. She was staring at the place 


THE PAINTED DESERT 163 


where it had split open in falling, showing 
not only stones but precious and costly 
gems on the inside. 

Bettina was thinking so deeply that she 
did not hear the Indian coming toward her. 

He did not speak until she seemed to 
feel her eyes drawn away from the things 
at which she was gazing, by another pair 
of eyes looking upon her. Then she 
started a little. 

^^Mrs. Burton sent me to tell you that 
you were to ride back to Nampu’s house 
in the wagon. You did not hear me com- 
ing? The Indian moves silently because 
the moccasins we wear are best suited to 
the sands of the desert.^’ 

The young man, thrusting his hands inside 
his belt, drew out an exquisite pair of 
moccasins made for a woman and of softest 
leather and embroidered in bright beads. 

^^You will wear these and you will be 
less tired,^^ he said. 

Were they a gift and, if so, what ought 
she to do?’’ Bettina did not know whether 
she should accept them. 

But the Indian seemed to take her accep- 
tance for granted. 


164 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


am sorry to have startled you/^ he 
continued, holding out his hand to assist 
her in getting up. 

But, for a moment after she had arisen, 
Bettina stood beside him, making no effort 
to move on. 

It was odd how little shyness she felt. 
It was easier to talk to this Indian; to ex- 
plain to him what she was thinking and 
feeling than to any young man acquaintance 
of her own race. 

wonder if you have ever read the 
Bible,” Bettina asked unexpectedly, and 
then, seeing the Indian looked startled, she 
laughed. 

‘^Oh, I am not a m^issionary trying to 
convert you. It is odd, but this place 
suddenly made me think of a chapter in 
Revelations. I suppose because I never 
could have imagined anywhere else such a 
profusion of jewels.” 

^‘1 have read your Bible,” the young 
man returned. '‘But I do not believe in 
it for the Indian. For us our own religion 
seems best. Yet I think I can recall the 
verses you mean.” 

" 'And the foundations of the wall of the 


THE PAINTED DESERT 165 


city were garnished with all manner of 
precious stones. The first foundation was 
jasper; the second sapphire; the third a 
chalcedony; the fourth, an emerald; 

‘^'The fifth, sardonyx; the sixth, sardius 
the seventh, chrysolyte; the eighth, beryl; 
the ninth a topaz; the tenth, chrysoprasus, 
the eleventh, a jacinth; the twelfth, an 
amethyst.’ ” 

The young man pronounced each word 
slowly and Bettina held her breath. Never 
could she have a more curious experience 
than this. She would never forget these 
past few minutes. 

The air of the desert was like crystal — the 
place a marvel of strange color. And as 
the Indian recited, Bettina seemed able to 
count each jewel in the stones before her. 

How strange life was, that she should 
hear these exquisite sjunbolic verses re- 
peated by a Pagan in a land which had 
once belonged to his Pagan ancestors. 


CHAPTER XIII 


The Eternal Feminine 
HIS morning there seemed to be a 



great deal of activity about the 


^ new Sunrise Hill camp. But then, 
no matter how people may talk of leading 
the simple life, there still remains a good 
deal of work to be done to make even the 
simple life agreeable. 

The four tents stood in a k'nd of half 
circle in front of the small grc ip of pine 
trees, which had influenced th: choice of 
the camping site. Before the central tent 
was a taU totem pole, as yet uncolored and 
uncarved, which was later to record the 
experiences of the Arizona Sunrise Camp 
Fire club. It had been purchased from an 
Indian wood carver and had a strange head 
on top, resembling a sardonic American 
eagle. 

Below and beyond the chosen mesa, and 
some distance off, lay Cottonwood Creek. 
The creek, fringed with tall cottonwood 


( 166 ) 


THE ETERNAL FEMININE 167 


trees, was nearly a mile in length. To the 
south lay the Gardener ranch and toward 
the west the beginning of the desert, with 
the Hopi reservations farther on. 

This morning, half a dozen yards from 
the kitchen tent, the camp fire was burning, 
and above it hung a huge iron pot. 

Nearby, peering through a pair of large 
round glasses, Alice Ashton was engaged 
in studying a recipe book. The book had 
been compiled in Boston and Alice was 
baking beans for lunch. As the book had 
been a present from her mother to the 
Camp Fire club, Alice, although she knew 
exactly how the beans should be done, 
preferred resorting to it, as she always did 
to the wisdom of the printed page. 

Ellen Deal was endeavoring to render 
her assistance but evidently her services 
were not desired. Nearly a month having 
passed with the Camp Fire club in Arizona, 
Ellen and Alice had become great friends. 
Alice conceded that the other girl had a 
scientific mind and was an authority on 
health but, when it came to baking beans, 
Boston must remain pre-eminent. 

Mrs. Burton, sitting under one of the 


168 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


pine trees in her favorite place and reading 
a lot of mail, now and then glanced about 
her. 

Alice’s earnestness was amusing — what a 
contrast she and Sally were, although they 
were sisters with only two years difference 
in their ages. 

There were a good many letters — two 
from her husband, one from her sister, Mrs. 
Webster, and another from her beloved 
Betty Graham in Washington. 

Mr. Simpson had driven to the post-office 
box on the Gardener ranch and returned 
with the mail only half an hour before. 
Since then he had been engaged in digging 
at the pathway up the side of their mesa, so 
as to make the ascent less difficult for the 
campers. 

Marie!” Polly called. But when Marie 
did not answer, she did not call a second 
time. What was it about their kind, ugly 
guide that seemed to inspire her maid with 
a kind of viciousness? Marie had just 
marched to the side of the mesa and was 
at this moment shaking Indian blankets 
just above Mr. Simpson’s head, while he 
devotedly dug and chiseled at their trail. 


THE ETERNAL FEMININE 169 


Marie did look ridiculously picturesque 
in her French maid’s costume of black and 
white, waving the brilliant, many-colored 
Indian blankets in the breeze, like some 
small insect with wings all too big, which 
seemed for the moment about to carry her 
over the cliff. 

Mr. Simpson must have been amused 
also, for he climbed up his own steps to 
speak to her, and Mrs. Burton did not hear 
what he said, but saw Marie flounce and 
toss her head after his remark. 

No one of the other girls was in sight at 
present. 

Vera, Peggy and Bettina had taken one 
of the burros and gone off to stroll along 
the creek and gather wood which they 
stacked on the burro’s back for the camp 
Are. Sally, who was the acknowledged! y 
lazy one of the Camp Fire girls, was prob- 
ably off pretending to read somewhere, and 
Gerry might possibly be with her. 

But the Camp Fire guardian was glad to 
feel that no one was far away and that 
things were comparatively peaceful. 
Indeed, except for Bettina’s accident some 
httle time before, which had amounted to 


170 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 

almost nothing, they had spent several 
delightful weeks at camp. Now and then 
they, of course, took trips about the coun- 
try and had seen several of the smaller 
nearby villages; also they had visited one 
of the petrified forests, but there had been 
no difficulties which were not amusing. 
And the girls seemed to be growing more 
friendly under the influence of the Camp 
Fire club fife. 

Polly was thinking of these facts with a 
degree of quiet satisfaction. Her hus- 
band^s, her friends’ and her sister’s letters 
had all faintly suggested possible complica- 
tions. None of them appeared sure of her 
as a safe and sane Camp Fire guardian, no 
matter how good her intentions. Her 
husband naturally was uneasy about her 
health, realizing she had much responsi- 
bility to which she was unaccustomed, 
while Betty and Mollie were uneasy 
over their only daughters. Mollie really 
could be forgiven, for Billy had been ill for 
several weeks and she herself was worn with 
nursing. She wrote that he seemed to 
have greatly missed Vera’s companionship. 
And Mrs. Burton wondered what her eccen- 


THE ETERNAL FEMININE 171 


trie little nephew could find in the compan- 
ionship of the quiet Russian girl. 

But at this moment she saw Gerry at 
some little distance off coming across the 
sands and then more slowly climbing up the 
steps of the mesa. 

She looked very fair and sweet as she 
came across the trail. She wore no hat 
and her pale yeUow hair was the color of 
corn silk. It was tied back loosely with a 
band of ribbon and she wore an ordinary 
morning camp fire costume. Gerry had 
not yet gotten beyond the first order of the 
camp fire. 

Her hat, however, was filled with lovely 
wild flowers, which she cast at once into 
her Camp Fire guardian’s lap. 

^^This is my morning tribute, dear lady,” 
she began. have been wandering about 
looking for them for you.” 

Now Polly Burton was aware that Gerry 
always flattered her, but she did not dream 
for a moment that this had anything to do 
with her especial fondness for her. There 
was an unusual bond between them — one 
which she had not yet confided to the other 
girls and probably would not until their 


172 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


camp fire days were over. Besides this, 
Gerry did seem to have a particularly sweet 
nature, even though the usually reasonable 
Peggy did not like her. But, then, the 
other girls did, and Peggy was a little 
spoiled and apt to be too blunt. She and 
Gerry would become more friendly later, 
was always her aunt’s conclusion. 

^^Were you alone, Gerry?” Mrs. Burton 
asked. ^^You know I would rather you 
girls did not go far from camp by your- 
selves. This country is too unfamiliar to 
all of us.” 

But she picked up the flowers and held 
them lovingly against her face. They had 
not the usual fragrances, but a kind of 
aromatic sweetness. 

^^Oh, I wasn’t alone all the time,” Gerry 
replied evasively, although the older woman 
did not notice this. followed Vera and 
Peggy and then came back along the 
creek.” 

^^But what about Bettina?” Polly asked 
carelessly, thought she went with the 
other two girls.” 

She was not especially interested in her 
own question, for she was really thinking 


THE ETERNAL FEMININE 173 


of her husband. But something in Gerry’s 
manner at this instant arrested her atten- 
tion. 

Gerry had not answered, but instead had 
turned her face and was gazing at the 
landscape. 

Where was Bettina?” Mrs. Burton 
asked more sharply, annoyed simply because 
Gerry had not replied to her question. 

Then Gerry turned slowly around. 

^^She started with the other girls, but 
said she was tired and sat down to rest 
under one of the trees by the creek. On 
my way back I saw that Tewa had joined 
her there. I did not know you expected 
him at camp today. He has been here 
twice already this week to tell us Indian 
stories I sometimes wonder how he man- 
ages to come so far.” 

^^Oh; that is no concern of ours,” Mrs. 
Burton returned lightly, “so long as you 
girls are interested in what he has to tell 
us. And Bettina seems to be more enter- 
tained than any one else.” 

Gerry laughed a curious little laugh and 
then stopped abruptly. 

She was sitting on the ground facing 


174 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Polly, with her hands clasped gracefully 
over her knees and her head tilted back so 
that her blue eyes were upturned. 

wonder if you will be cross with me, 
dear lady, if I say something to you?’’ she 
asked with a slight flush and tightening of 
her lips, which were rather thin. 

Still Polly was not paying serious atten- 
tion to her companion. 

Why should I be angry, Gerry? 1 have 
not been with you so far in our acquain- 
tance, dear. You have been a more satis- 
factory Camp Fire girl than I believed you 
could be at the beginning. Besides, I 
made up my mind that if 1 was permitted 
to be a Camp Fire guardian, I must reform 
my own temper before I could influence the 
girls. So fire away, Gerry, and test me,” 
she ended lightly, slipping her letters back 
into the envelopes, but glancing at them 
again as she did so. 

Yet Gerry did not speak at once. 

was just wondering if you knew how 
intimate Bettina and your Indian proteg6 
are,” she said finally, ^^and if you mind? 
It seems odd to me when you were not will- 
ing to have Terry Benton continue as our 


THE ETERNAL FEMININE 175 

guide, when he was a nice American fellow. 

And this Indian 

Impulsively Gerry reached out and took 
hold of Polly’s hand, looking at her with a 
kind of playful apology. 

‘‘1 don’t mean to criticise you, you know. 
I would never do that, and besides, I 
wouldn’t dare anyhow. But I feel you 
cannot have noticed their friendship. It is 
only because I realize Bettina does not 
understand some things as I do; has never 
been up against the world as I have 
that — — ” 

^^Be quiet, Gerry.” 

Undeniably Mrs. Burton’s amiability, 
which she had announced as necessary to 
her Camp Fire work, had suddenly vanished. 

^^One thing I shall never allow in my 
Camp Fire club is for one girl to talk to 
me unkindly of another. If Bettina is 
friendly to Tewa it is because she is grate- 
ful to him, as I am. He is an unusual 
fellow and she may help him with his 
education. I am afraid, Gerry, you do 
not understand just who Bettina is, nor 
who her father and mother are.” 

Polly hesitated. After all, Gerry’s in- 


176 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


fluences had been so different. She must 
not be too angry with her. 

^^DonT let me hear any suggestions of 
this kind again about any one of the 
Cami) Fire girls/' she ended more kindly. 
^Ht is because I want you to forget a good 
deal of nonsense that I brought you out 
here with us." 

Gerry said nothing and, getting up, 
Polly laid her hand lightly on Gerry's 
head. 

^^Let us forget this past few moments 
altogether — both of us," she suggested, and 
walked away. 

She had seen Bettina and Tewa strolling 
slowly away from the neighborhood of 
Cottonwood Creek toward their mesa. 
Bettina was nearly as tall as the Indian 
and in her picturesque camp fire costume, 
did not look out of place beside her 
companion. 


CHAPTER XIV 


Antagonisms 


D inner was finished and yet it was 
early evening. 

Over in the west the sunset was 
flaming the sky with the brilliant colors of 
this land of clear atmospheres. 

Seated in a group about a smouldering 
outdoor fire were eight girls — seven of them 
in ceremonial camp fire costumes and one 
of them dressed as an Indian. Curious that 
the Indian girl should be the fairest of 
them all! 

Her pale yellow hair was fixed in the 
elaborate fashion of the Hopi maidens, 
with great loops over each ear, her dress 
of white. About her throat were several 
strings of uncut turquoise. The dress itself 
was made of a single piece of woolen 
cloth — really a white blanket — with a deep 
border of bright blue and red at the bottom 
and at the top. Around her waist was a 
white belt and on her feet soft white mocca- 
(177) 


12 


178 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


sins, with strings of white leather wound 
about her legs almost to the knees until she 
looked as if she were wearing white top 
boots. 

Dawapa was also in her ceremonial cos- 
tume, as she was the guest of the Camp 
Fire girls. At the moment she was deftly 
fashioning a baho, or feather prayer plume. 
The other girls were watching her with 
interest. 

They were at some distance back from 
the fire with the evening wind blowing the 
smoke away to the northwest among the 
blue peaks of the San Francisco hills and 
the gorges of the Grand Canyon. 

Gerry Williams was sitting next to 
Dawapa, with Sally Ashton on her other 
side, Sally’s brown head resting against 
Gerry’s shoulder and her lids closing now 
and then over her big brown eyes. She 
looked like a sleepy, sweet-tempered doll. 

Opposite were Vera and Bettina, and in 
front Alice, Peggy and Ellen. They had 
broken their usual Camp Fire circle forma- 
tion in order the better to observe their 
guest. 

Their Camp Fire guardian was not with 


ANTAGONISMS 


179 


them at the moment, having gone to her 
tent after dinner. It seemed better, now 
and then, to Polly that she leave the girls 
alone. 

On the ground beside Dawapa was a 
large round basket, flat like a tray and 
woven in red and green grasses, with a disk 
inside to represent the sun. 

In spite of the lateness of the hour, 
as it was still sufficiently light, Alice and 
Ellen and Vera were working at their own 
weaving. Since her arrival two days before, 
the Indian girl had been teaching the Sun- 
rise HiU Camp Fire club to improve their 
hand craft in more than one way. Although 
Dawapa was not yet an artist to equal 
her mother, her skill in basketry, in silver 
work and more especially in pottery had 
awed the American girls. It was one 
thing to be a modern Camp Fire girl, no 
matter how successful in the obtaining of 
the green honors, and another to have been 
born to the life of the camp and the inherit- 
ances of generations of hand workers. 

^'What is that pretty thing you are 
making used for, Dawapa? Gerry asked, 
glancing up from her own pretty hands. 


180 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


which were idly crossed in her lap, toward 
the other still fairer girl. Gerry did not 
seem to be making a great effort to add to 
her Camp Fire honors and thus attain to 
a higher membership. 

The Indian girl was almost abnormally 
shy and timid — or at least she appeared 
timid to the Camp Fire girls. But she had 
been to a government school and spoke a 
fair amount of English. 

“We plant our prayer plumes on the 
altar when we pray to the Indian Gods,” 
she answered gently, with a faraway look 
in her light blue eyes. “Our first prayer 
is for good thoughts — then that our children 
may be wise and strong, and that the God 
of the Sky may be glad of us.” 

Gerry laughed. It was odd how few 
things seemed to strike her as serious. 

Alice Ashton frowned. She was not 
pleased at her younger sister ^s intimacy 
with Gerry, of whose history they knew 
almost nothing. 

“That is lovely, Dawapa; thank you for 
telling us,” she returned, wondering if the 
Indian girl would feel that they had less 
good manners than her own people. “ After 


ANTAGONISMS 


181 


that, do you not pray for something you 
especially wish for — the thing you most 
desire?’’ 

Alice spoke earnestly and the other 
girls remained silent. Perhaps there was 
not one among them who did not cherish a 
secret wish; perhaps for some simple, 
material possession, or perhaps an ambition 
which only the future could gratify. 

But Dawapa only nodded her head and 
did not reply. 

Gerry leaned over. 

^^Oh, if that prayer plume thing brings 
one good luck, give it to me?” she de- 
manded, reaching over and making an 
attempt to take the baho from the Indian 
girl’s hand. 

But Dawapa held to it firmly. 

“Don’t do that, Gerry,” Bettina Graham 
said hastily and with a note of authority. 
“Dawapa told you that the prayer plume 
is a part of the Indian religious ceremony.” 

After all, Bettina Graham was her 
mother’s daughter, and courtesy and good 
breeding had been the rule of her life. 
She did not dislike Gerry; indeed, she had 
not paid a great deal of attention to her, 


182 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


but occasionally something in the other 
girl’s behavior offended her almost uncon- 
sciously. 

And, in a way, Gerry knew and resented 
this. In fact, she had immediately decided 
that what Bettina’s friends called shyness 
was only hauteur, due to her father’s 
prominence and her own social position. 

At Bettina’s speech she now flushed 
angrily, but drew away from the Indian 
girl. Then she laughed a faintly mocking, 
insinuating laugh. 

beg your pardon; I had forgotten 
what a convert you have become to Hhe 
poor Indian.’ ” 

Just exactly what Gerry meant by this 
stupid speech, Bettina did not appreciate. 
However, she did know that it was her 
intention to be rude. 

“You have extraordinarily bad manners, 
Gerry. I wonder if it is because you do 
not know better?” Bettina returned 
quietly. By this time she was also angry, 
but she had a self-possession which gave 
her the advantage. Yet, the moment her 
sentence was finished, Bettina regretted it. 
Among the new Sunrise Hill Camp Fire 


ANTAGONISMS 


183 


club this was the first open quarrel, and the 
other girls were looking uncomfortable. 
Bettina had not meant to make her accusa- 
tion so sweeping. Having lost her temper, 
she had simply said more than she should, 
as most of us do under similar circum- 
stances. Moreover, Bettina felt a httle 
stab at realizing that Gerry would doubtless 
tell her side of their difficulty to their 
Camp Fire guardian. In Bettina^s mind 
there was little doubt whose part she 
would take. 

You are hateful, Bettina,’^ Sally Ashton 
murmured, still a little sleepily. She had 
not listened carefully to what had been 
said, but wished to announce herself as 
Gerry’s champion. The truth was that 
Alice had recently lectured her younger 
sister on the subject of their intimacy, and 
SaUy intended to show how utterly unim- 
pressed she was by family advice. 

If Gerry intended continuing the quarrel 
she did not say anything more at this 
instant. For, glancing up, she had seen 
that Mrs. Burton had come out of her tent 
and was walking slowly towards them. 

Bettina also had seen her and was a 


184 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


little puzzled that Gerry did not make the 
best of her present opportunity. Then she 
concluded that Gerry was a little ashamed, 
as she herself was, over their childish lack 
of self-control. Perhaps next day there 
would be a chance to straighten things out 
when they were alone, particularly as they 
were expecting guests to arrive at their 
camp fire at any moment. 

^^Our visitors have not yet appeared, 
have they?^’ Polly asked a moment later, 
as she sat down next to her niece. 

Straightway Gerry kissed her hand to 
their Camp Fire guardian across the 
intervening space, looking as sweet and 
unruffled as if nothing unpleasant had 
occurred. 

Really, by this time only Peggy showed 
any especial expression of annoyance. 
Peggy simply refused at all times to pretend 
to any state of mind she did not feel. 
Although she had not spoken, recognizing 
that she had no part in Bettina^s and 
Gerry’s quarrel, none the less was she 
ruffled. 

Recognizing this fact, but not under- 
standing the cause, Polly slipped her 


ANTAGONISMS 


185 


arm affectionately through Peggy’s and 
held her close for a moment. She could 
feel the girl grow less rigid; see her ex- 
pression change and soften. There was 
no doubting the sincerity of the devotion 
between the niece and aunt, even if now 
and then they did not entirely approve 
of each other’s actions. Mrs. Burton, 
however, had not the faintest idea that 
Peggy would at any time oppose her in 
a matter of importance. Perhaps she had 
grown too accustomed to believing in her 
own charm and unconsciously in the in- 
fluence of her own success. So far no one 
appreciated the fact that Peggy Webster 
was one of the few people who absolutely 
had to think for herself, and to be faithful to 
the truth and to justice as she saw it. 

Terry Benton’s note to me said he 
wished to bring half a dozen other friends 
with him tonight, so that was rather an 
unnecessary question on my part,” Mrs. 
Burton went on, wondering why the group 
of girls remained so silent and constrained, 
and glancing with more attention from one 
face to the other. 

Some little time before, Mrs. Burton 


186 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


had been compelled to surrender the idea 
that she could order her Sunrise Hill Camp 
Fire club as if it were a nunnery and she 
the Mother Superior. At least, this was 
the accusation which Mrs. Gardener had 
certainly made on their arrival. Really, 
Polly had only wished to keep clear of 
entanglements. But Terry Benton, although 
not permitted to remain as guide, had 
manifested no ill feeling. Indeed, ever 
since he had been a more or less fre- 
quent visitor at camp, bringing an occa- 
sional friend with him. He and Gerry 
and Sally seemed to have formed a kind 
of three-cornered friendship. 

Tonight, however, was the first time 
that he had suggested bringing so many 
visitors at one time. But Terry had 
written to say he had a friend from the 
East who had just arrived at the Gardener 
ranch and wanted to call. There were 
also four or five western fellows who de- 
clined to be put off any longer. 

Therefore Mrs. Burton had acquiesced 
and written to say she and the Camp Fire 
girls would be glad to see them. After aU, 
she remembered how important a part 


ANTAGONISMS 


187 


their boy friends had played in her own 
Camp Fire days. Perhaps it was a sign 
of age to have expected other girls to be 
different. Anyhow, Mrs. Burton had the 
grace to laugh at herself after submitting 
to the inevitable. And she was now first 
to spy their expected guests. 

But the moment after, SaUy also had 
seen them and jumping quickly to her feet, 
all her sleepiness vanished, began waving 
a yellow scarf. 

The newcomers made an effective picture, 
riding in single file along the trail which 
led from the Gardener ranch. Although 
the sun w^as not entirely down, the moon 
had risen and was showing faintly in the 
opposite sky. Later would be revealed, 
the Pleiades which the Indian calls the 
time of the sweet infiuences. 

The young men were wearing rough- 
rider costumes. Observing Sally^s signal, 
Terry Benton, who was leading the line 
of march, rose in his saddle and saluted. 
The next instant six other men followed 
suit and together they halloed across the 
desert the long, curious cry of the western 
cowboy. 


188 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


But the girls had also risen in a pictur- 
esque group about their camp fire, calling 
back in return the now world-famous camp 
fire cheer: 

‘^Wohelo for aye, Wohelo for aye, Wohelo, Wohelo, 
Wohelo for aye! 

Wohelo for work, Wohelo for health, Wohelo for 
love.’’ 

Ten minutes later, leaving their burros 
below fastened to the trees near Cottonwood 
Creek, Terry and his friends, after climbing 
the mesa, came directly toward Mrs. Burton. 
And before Terry could introduce any 
one of them, a young man held out his 
hand. 

have met you before, Mrs. Burton. 
You remember you said I could not be a 
member of your Camp Fire club? Well, I 
have done the next best thing, 1 am a 
visitor at the Gardener ranch. Benton and 
1 are old friends, and when he wrote me of 
what was going on out here, 1 guessed the 
rest. Besides Mrs. Webster and Mrs. 
Graham confessed. I think they want a 
first-hand report of Miss Bettina and Miss 
Peggy from me.” 


ANTAGONISMS 


189 


But Peggy had by this time joined her 
aunt. 

Ralph Marshall; how extraordinary to 
see you out here! You are the very last 
person I would ever have dreamed of. I 
thought, after your visit to us, you were to 
stay on and study scientific farming with 
father.’’ 

“Oh, well, I have concluded to be a 
ranchman instead,” Ralph returned, smiling 
and shaking hands with Peggy. 

Peggy was pleased to see him. He had 
been a guest at their place several times 
while she was growing up and was really a 
charming fellow, if a little spoiled by his 
father’s wealth. Then his people were 
friends of Bettina’s mother and father, as 
well as of her own. 


CHAPTER XV 


The Storm 

R alph marshall decided that he 

never had seen Bettina Graham so 
" agreeable nor so good looking as 
she was tonight. 

Ralph was a great admirer of Bettina^s 
mother; indeed, whenever he made a visit 
to Washington, he was always in Mrs. 
Graham’s train. And he knew that Mrs. 
Graham wished him to be friends with her 
daughter; indeed, she had frankly told him 
so, announcing that she believed the one 
would be good for the other. For Bettina, 
in her mother’s eyes, was too grave, too 
given to yielding to odd fancies and too 
indifferent to people, while Ralph, in con- 
trast, was too frivolous and fond of society. 
He was some day to inherit great wealth, 
so his father was trying vainly to interest 
him in something of importance. His 
excursions to Washington and his connec- 
tion with Senator Graham were in order to 

( 190 ) 


THE STORM 


191 


inform him of national affairs. Failing 
that interest, for Ralph had announced 
himseff as bored to death by politics, he had 
gone for a few weeks to the Webster farm, 
pretending to have developed a curiosity 
concerning scientific farming. 

But, really, Ralph was only concerned at 
present with having an agreeable time. He 
was not a student and had barely managed 
to be allowed to remain at college. He was 
not a first-rate athlete, for athletics required 
too much self-sacrifice to appeal to Ralph. 
But he had a charming voice and was one 
of the stars of his college glee club, and 
there was not a man in college who danced 
better. 

So he and Bettina really were too great 
a contrast in all their ideas and desires 
ever to have been intimate friends up to 
the present time, in spite of the family 
wishes. 

Tonight, however, Ralph had concluded 
that Bettina was almost a real girl, and not 
a prig given to writing poetry and reading 
a lot of dull books that would bore any 
natural human being to death. She was 
evidently interested in all kinds of outdoor 


192 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


sports, which she must have learned through 
her Camp Fire work, and Ralph always 
had been forced to concede that Bettina 
knew how to dance. She was so tall and 
slender and, just as she had a pecuhar 
hght grace in walking, so she had it in 
dancing. 

Ralph and Bettina were dancing together 
at the time the young man was reaching 
these conclusions — dancing outdoors on the 
smooth plateau of the mesa on a wonder- 
ful, white night. Bettina^s hair was shin- 
ing in the moonlight, and she was stirred 
out of her usual coldness by the beauty and 
novelty of her surroundings. So it was 
small wonder that Ralph, who was a roman- 
tic person, was at present taking a more 
kindly view of his companion. 

However, Bettina had not changed to 
the same degree in her opinion of Ralph. 
She was still convinced that he was exactly 
the kind of man she would always least 
admire. Bettina’s ideal was represented 
by her father, who had made his own way 
by a strenuous and self-denying youth. 
Moreover, Bettina had never forgiven Ralph 
for his discovery of the poem she had 


THE STORM 


193 


written and believed she had safely burned 
that afternoon at the Webster farm. 

But the music ceased. After Bettina 
and Ralph stopped dancing they walked 
together to the side of the mesa and Bettina 
sat down. 

The music consisted of a Victor, which 
Mrs. Burton had brought with them as a 
part of the camping outfit, and tonight 
Marie had the music in charge. 

She looked like a little French figure of 
Pierette in her tight-fitting black dress, and 
with her face oddly white in the moonlight. 
For Marie insisted upon following the 
French fashion of using a great deal of white 
powder in spite of her mistress’ remon- 
strances. 

The Victor had been placed in a con- 
venient position and Marie mounted on a 
stool beside it. Almost for the first time 
since their arrival in camp, Marie appeared 
almost gay as she ground out the records 
and watched the dancers. 

Mr. Jefferson Simpson had come forth 
from his lone tent near the creek and 
established himself several yards away, to 
smoke a meditative cigar and observe the 


13 


194 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


proceedings with his twinkling, philosophic 
eyes. 

‘Ht is great out here, isn’t it?” Ralph 
said, as he arranged himself in a picturesque 
attitude, lying at full length on the sands 
near Bettina’s feet 

And it wasn’t so worse — ^that httle poem 
of yours I found this spring; at least, not 
for stuff of that kind.” And Ralph spoke 
with a fine scorn of the poets and poetry 
of all ages. 

can repeat the thing, I think. In- 
deed, to tell you the truth, after I 
read it over I learned the words and 
have been singing them to some music I 
know.” 

And Ralph sang under his breath in a 
charming voice: 

“ In the moon of the peach blossoms, 

Toward the land of the setting sun, 

Ghosts of old camp fires keep calling; 

Camp fires whose race has been run. 

‘^I can see the sands of the desert; 

I can hear strange desert cries; 

And ever my thoughts go homing 
To a tent under desert skies.” 


THE STORM 


195 


In the beginning Bettina was uncertain 
whether she was pleased or annoyed at 
Ralph’s reminding her of an embarrassing 
experience. But undoubtedly, by the 
close of the song, she was flattered. 
Ralph really made the most of her little 
poem. 

^^The meter is very poor — so poor I 
threw my poem away — but the music is 
lovely and you sing awfuUy well,” Bettina 
conceded, finding herself not so bored by 
her companion as she always had been in 
the past. But then, they had scarcely been 
together for a ten-minutes’ conversation 
alone in their entire acquaintance before 
tonight, both Bettina and Ralph having 
taken pains to avoid it. 

^'Anacoana, Flower of Gold, is your 
Camp Fire name, isn’t it?” Ralph con- 
tinued, gazing somewhat sentimentally at 
Bettina with his hazel-brown eyes. His 
hair was nearly the same color, and his 
teeth strong and white. Indeed, the only 
contradictory thing in Ralph’s appearance 
was his mouth, which was fine and clearly 
cut — contradicting the weakness of the rest 
of his face. 


196 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


This time Bettina was annoyed. It was 
useless to try to be sensible with Ralph 
Marshall, as he was always under the 
impression that he must be languishing 
when talking to a girl. 

And Bettina did not like this; neither 
did she know exactly how to behave under 
the circumstances. It would have been 
simple enough to have laughed Ralph into 
better judgment of her and of the situation. 
But Bettina was no longer sufficiently at 
ease. 

Oh, that is rather an absurd name which 
my father once chose for me as a Camp Fire 
name and by which I have been embar- 
rassed ever since, she answered coldly, not 
returning her companion's gaze, but sitting 
up stiffly. 

Her attitude gave Ralph the desire to 
flee. Bettina was a literary iceberg, after 
all! But how escape when one was lying 
at full length on the ground ga.zing with 
at least an appearance of ardor upon an 
unresponsive maiden, unless some one came 
to the rescue? 

Ralph glanced about and suppressed a 
sigh of relief. 


THE STORM 


197 


Terry Benton and a girl were coming 
toward them. 

And Bettina was equally relieved by the 
vision of Sally Ashton — a Sally no longer 
suggesting the least appearance of sleepi- 
ness, or of anything but sweetness and 
animation. It is curious, but there 
are a number of girls in this world 
— and an equal number of women — 
who really never do wake up until 
something masculine appears upon their 
horizon. 

Sally was laughing and talking, her 
cheeks crimson and her big brown eyes 
shining. 

^^We have come to look for you, Bettina. 
Tante was afraid you and Mr. Marshall 
might be lost./’ For Polly was ^ Tante’ to 
all of the Camp Fire girls who were the 
daughters of her old friends, as well as to 
her own niece. 

The fact was, however, that she had not 
suggested to Sally to look for Bettina and 
Ralph — the suggestion had come from 
Gerry. And Gerry had not mentioned 
Bettina. She had simply told Terry Benton 
that she had not yet met his eastern friend. 


198 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


and did he suppose that Ralph had already 
run away? 

So Terry and Sally had good-naturedly 
set off to find him. 

Sally’s explanation had been the only 
excuse she could think of at the moment, 
since, under the circumstances, she did not 
wish to mention Gerry’s name. She was 
not really bad-tempered or deceitful; it 
seemed impossible that any daughter of 
Esther and Dick Ashton’s could be! But 
the fact was that Sally was like a pretty, 
soft kitten. She did not wish her pleasures 
interfered with, and if they were she was 
capable of a scratch. Moreover, she had 
fallen very much under the influence of an 
older girl who had experiences of life 
which Sally considered extremely fasci- 
nating. And at present Gerry’s power 
was perhaps stronger than the Camp 
Fire’s. 

Bettina and Ralph both got up hastily. 
The four of them were about to move 
away when, unexpectedly and almost simul- 
taneously, their attention was attracted 
by the silhouette of a figure coming alone 
along the western trail from the desert to 


THE STORM 


199 


the ranch, running with extraordinary 
swiftness. 

But at some distance off he stopped and 
stood perfectly still, gazing in the direction 
of the mesa. 

An Indian — and a stunning one! ” Ralph 
exclaimed in surprise and excitement. Hav- 
ing only just arrived in Arizona, he had not 
yet learned to take the appearance of an 
Indian upon the scene as a matter of course. 

And the figure below was a fine one — 
nearly six feet in height, with broad, 
slender shoulders, perfectly erect, the head 
thrown back, motionless as a man in bronze. 

“Oh, that is our Indian, or Tante^s or 
Bettina^s,^^ Sally replied teasingly. “How- 
ever, I ought not to speak of him disrespect- 
fully, for he is the son of an Indian chief 
and a chief himself, I believe, when he 
happens to be at home from college. 
Really, he does seem to be an unusual 
fellow.” 

“There are several of these Indian stu- 
dents at my college,” Ralph remarked. 
“Queer contrast their existence must offer, 
if they return to their own people in the 
holidays.” 


200 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Ralph was watching as he talked. 

The man below had started to move 
again and was climbing the ascent to the 
mesa. It chanced that the trail was not 
far from the spot where the two Camp Fire 
girls and their companions were standing. 

When the Indian reached the top he 
hesitated a moment, perhaps surprised by 
the unexpectedness of seeing two strange 
young men. But, without making any 
sign, he went on in the direction of the 
group of tents. 

Not far from her own tent Mrs. Burton 
was sitting in a big camp chair, with 
Dawapa on the ground beside her. The 
Indian girl had been frightened by the 
appearance of so many strangers. 

Standing in front of Mrs. Burton was a 
big, good-looking fellow named Howard 
Brent, the son of another Arizona ranch- 
man, with whom she was talking. 

The Indian stopped in front of them, 
but Polly did not notice until she heard a 
little suppressed cry from the girl beside 
her. 

Mrs. Burton was not altogether pleased 
at the sight of the young man. 


THE STORM 


201 


After all, he had too mysterious a fashion 
of appearing at camp unexpectedly. 

But something in the dignity and aloof- 
ness of his manner always impressed her. 

am sorry, he said. did not know 
you had friends with you or I would not 
have come. They must have told you to 
be prepared before now.” 

Told me what? ” Mrs. Burton demanded 
with her usual impatience. 

^^That a storm is coming.” 

The Indian pointed toward the south- 
west. 

“Nonsense,” the young ranchman beside 
Polly replied. And then in a patronizing 
fashion: “The Indians out here think they 
are great weather prophets, and that they 
know the signs in the sky as well as we 
know the face of a clock.” 

The young ranchman looked up at the 
sky and then sniffed the air. 

“Not a sign of a storm that I can make 
out, and I was born and brought up in 
Arizona.” 

“Oh, well; even if a storm dpes break on 
us, I suppose we can find refuge in our 
tents,” Mrs. Burton added, not specially 


202 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


interested in the subject of the weather 
at the present moment, and thinking that 
Tewa might have manufactured a more 
worth-while excuse for his appearance. 

In response the Indian said nothing, but 
the other man laughed. 

^‘1 don^t believe you realize what an 
Arizona storm toward the end of July may 
mean, Mrs. Burton. However, there is no 
reason for worrying tonight.’^ 

Tewa turned away, not replying to Mrs. 
Burton’s vague invitation to remain. 

The next instant, however, Dawapa had 
jumped up and seized the young man by 
the arm. 

“Take me home; I don’t like it here. 
I have fear, Tewa,” Dawapa whispered. 

Her companion shook his head. 

“It is too far; there will be no time 
before the storm gets here.” Freeing him- 
self, he walked quickly away. 

Half an hour later the first informal 
Sunrise Camp Fire dance was over. The 
young men guests had started back on the 
trail toward the Gardener ranch. 

In another half hour Mrs. Burton and 
the girls were in their tents asleep. 


THE STORM 


203 


Tewa, the Indian, had disappeared. 

Only Mr. Simpson had not retired. He 
had gone down to his own solitary tent 
after the young men visitors departed. 
But he did not seem able to sleep. 

The moon had gone down, but the night 
was still fairly clear, with a few stars 
overhead. 

However, over toward the southwest 
there was a yellowish white cloud rolling 
up the horizon. Suddenly, all the vital- 
ity and freshness had gone from the 
atmosphere. 

But more important, down in the neigh- 
borhood of the creek there were queer 
rustlings in the branches of the tall cotton- 
wood trees, as if the birds were whispering 
together. On the ground there was the 
faint sound of running, soft-padded feet. 

Also Mr. Simpson heard familiar cries 
of the animals farther off — the queer bark- 
ing of the coyotes, the snarl of a wild cat — 
signaling each other of the approach of 
danger. 

Perhaps the tents ought to be more 
securely fastened down in case of danger. 

Mr. Simpson was again climbing the 


204 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


mesa when he saw away off, coming from 
the neighborhood of the Painted Desert 
toward them, what appeared like a giant. 
It was a huge column of sand borne straight 
upright. 

A hurricane was behind it! 


CHAPTER XVI 


After Effects 

O NE of the conspicuous characteris- 
tics of Mrs. Richard Burton was that 
she was at her best in emergencies. 
But, as she was a celebrated actress, it was 
of course easy to understand her apprecia- 
tion of dramatic moments. 

Before Mr. Simpson reached the top of 
the mesa she had awakened. 

Something — a sound or an increasing 
heaviness in the atmosphere — had brought 
her slowly back to consciousness. Half a 
moment she lay wondering why she felt 
such a sense of impending calamity when, 
so far as she knew, everything about her 
was peaceful. Marie was breathing con- 
tentedly in her cot on the opposite side of 
the tent. 

Getting up, Polly put on a heavy rose- 
colored silk dressing gown — the admira- 
tion of the Camp Fire girls — ^and walked 
to the opening of a tent. 

( 205 ) 


206 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


The air was thick; the sense of calamity 
more convincing. 

Going outdoors, Mrs. Burton looked up 
at the sky. The funnel-shaped, yellowish 
white cloud was coming closer, but not so 
close as the extraordinary pillar of sand. 
Then she saw Mr. Simpson and ran forward 
to meet him. 

^‘Get the girls out of their tents quickly, 
or the tents will be down upon them.” 

There was a great bell fastened to a post 
near one of the tents for use in emergen- 
cies, but Mrs. Burton could not have 
reached it in time. However, before she 
got there it had begun ringing and the 
girls had run quickly out in response. 

Some instinct must have taught them the 
proper thing to do, for, in an instant, they 
had dropped flat down on the ground. 
There was no place nearby to take refuge 
— no cavern in the rocks — only the flat 
surface of the mesa. 

It is extraordinary how few people show 
nervousness or cowardice in the face of 
unexpected danger. 

Now, of the little Camp Fire party, none 
of whom knew anything before of the perils 


AFTER EFFECTS 


207 


of an Arizona storm, and entirely unpro- 
tected as they were, only Gerry Williams 
and Marie were frightened. 

When Gerry came out of her tent she 
was clad only in a thin little wrapper. As 
soon as she looked up at the sky and heard 
the muffled roar of the oncoming storm, 
which in a strange way seemed only to 
increase the stillness nearer by, quite sense- 
lessly she started running — ^running alone 
along the top of the mesa as if she meant 
to plunge over for safety. 

Sally Ashton, who had followed nearest 
her, made no effort to stop her. Indeed, 
Sally flew straight to her sister Aliceas 
arms and they quietly lay down beside 
each other, covering their faces with their 
hands. For it is an odd thing how many 
differences members of a family may have 
and yet, in a moment of peril, they are 
reunited, deserting many an affection which 
had seemed a stronger tie than blood. 

But, fortunately for Gerry Williams, Vera 
had seen her loss of judgment. Vera it 
was who had aroused soon after Polly had 
left her tent and, guessing at once what 
was about to take place, had rung the bell. 


208 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


For Vera had the gift for sudden, quick 
action without waiting for advice. 

That instant she seized Gerry by the 
shoulders and, as she was much the stronger, 
threw her down in the sand, pinioning her- 
self on top of her and holding her still. 
She was not a mome^nt toQ’^on, for almost 
at once the storm passed over them. And 
all this, of course, has taken longer in the 
telling than in the time of action. 

The column of sand drew nearer, like a 
vast herald of disaster with the wind 
roaring behind it. 

And in the face of the terrific sound, 
Marie began screaming. 

It was so nonsensical and yet it set on 
edge the nerves of everybody who was close 
enough to hear her. 

She was kneeling with her face buried 
in her hands, crying as loud as a frightened 
child, and occasionally murmuring a word 
or two of a Latin prayer, when she could 
gather sufficient self-control. 

Mrs. Burton chanced not to be near 
enough to speak to her, but she did see 
Mr. Simpson go to Marie and sit down 
beside her. What he said must have had 


AFTER EFFECTS 


209 


a somewhat soothing effect, for she did not 
cry quite so noisily, or it may have been 
that the storm was at the instant passing 
over them. 

Any one who has ever experienced a 
western storm will tell you of having gone 
through almost the same physical expe- 
rience. First, there is a terrible sense of 
oppression, then, a sound of a tremendous 
roaring in the ears and of heavy pressure, 
followed by a queer tingling and burning 
of the skin. 

However, as a matter of fact, the Sun- 
rise Camp Fire party did not meet the real 
force of the storm. In the eccentric fashion 
that a hurricane often shows, it turned as 
it neared their mesa and swerved toward 
the south. But they had at least a portion 
of it and were bathed in fine sand like a 
down-pouring of rain. 

Yet the whole incident was over in such 
a little while! And the entire party got 
up almost simultaneously, as if they had 
been Mohammedans praying in the desert 
—the early morning prayer of every true 
follower of the Prophet. For it is the 
Mohammedan custom at a given moment 

u 


210 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


at sunrise and at sunset to kneel and, 
burying the face in the hands, pray with 
the face turned toward Mecca. And, also, 
at a given moment, in Moslem countries 
the prayer is over with the ringing of a 
great muezzin bell. 

Naturally, as Camp Fire guardian, Polly 
was most anxious to learn the effects of 
the past few moments upon the girls, 
whose welfare she took almost too seriously 
perhaps. 

But as soon as she staggered up she 
heard a voice beside her saying quietly: 

^^DonT try to talk for a moment, Mrs. 
Burton, please. The air is still bad. It 
may hurt your throat.’^ 

And Polly saw that Ellen Deal had come 
directly to her. The next moment she 
had brought a camp chair and was gently 
forcing her into it. 

Polly was pleased and touched. She 
had not devoted as much attention to Ellen 
as she had to some of her other guests. 
For one thing, Ellen was older and seemed 
to have one of the slightly natures it is 
hard to be intimate with at first. How- 
ever, she believed that Ellen must have fine 


AFTER EFFECTS 


211 


qualities, else the severe Dr. Sylvia Wharton 
would never have been so anxious for her 
to be one of the party. And later, perhaps, 
she would have her chance. 

“You are very good; there is nothing 
the matter with me,’’ Mrs. Burton mur- 
mured, and then frowned and smiled apolo- 
getically at the same time. For her voice 
apparently seemed to have departed and 
she was absurdly weak. But, then, she 
must remember that she had originally 
come to Arizona because this very trouble 
made her acting impossible. 

However, the Camp Fire girls really 
appeared more entertained than frightened 
by what they had undergone. 

“I feel rather like a kitten that has been 
left out over night,” Sally remarked. “My 
fur is alFruffled.” She sat blinking her big 
soft brown eyes and shaking her brown hair, 
which was in a mass of brown fluff over her 
should'ers. If Sally had dreamed how 
much she did make people think of a kit- 
ten, perhaps she would not have said this. 
Yet she did know, since “kitten” had been 
her father’s name for her ever since she 
was a tiny child. 


212 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


At present Alice was entirely concerned 
with her younger sister. 

^‘You are sure you are all right, dear? 
I was so worried about you. As the storm 
blew across us I was thankful to remember 
you had gained five pounds since we arrived 
at the Camp Fire/’ Alice said, speaking 
with such an appearance of solemnity that 
it was difficult to decide whether she was 
joking. But, then, as growing too fat was 
Sally’s particular horror in life, she was of 
course teasing her in the usual elder sister 
fashion. 

Sally pretended not to hear. 

Where is Gerry? Is she all right?” 
she demanded. ^^She was just in front of 
me before the storm broke. Here she 
comes, now.” 

In fact, Gerry was at the moment only 
a few steps away, leaning on Vera’s arm 
and looking fragile and shaken. 

am abominably afraid of storms; 
have been always,” she exclaimed petu- 
lantly. ^‘So I suppose you were right 
not to let me run. Perhaps I might have 
been knocked down. Still, I think you 
were frightfully rough, Vera. Perhaps you 


AFTER EFFECTS 


213 


canT help it, having been brought up in 
the country/’ And Gerry ended her speech 
with the fine scorn which one remembers 
the city mouse felt for the country mouse 
in the old fable. 

^^Yes, I am sorry if I hurt you,” Vera 
returned, quietly disengaging her arm from 
the other girl’s, now that she saw there 
was nothing the matter and knowing that 
she preferred being with Sally. She her- 
seK wished to learn how Peggy and Bettina 
and their Camp Fire guardian had passed 
through the storm. 

It was now nearly daylight on the top 
of the mesa. The sun had not risen, but 
there was a kind of general grayness that 
preceded the approach of dawn. At least, 
it was possible for the girls to grope their 
way about and to recognize each other as 
they approached close by. 

Vera now saw that Bettina had gone 
over toward Mrs. Burton and that Peggy, 
in her usual practical fashion, was wander- 
ing about trying to discover how much 
damage had been done. The Indian girl 
was with her. 

It was a piece of good fortune, or per- 


214 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


haps what is usually the cause of good 
fortune — a piece of good sense — that the 
camp fire had been put out before the girls 
had retired for the night. In these dry 
months in Arizona, when there is ordinarily 
so little rainfall and living so near the great 
ranch fields of corn and alfalfa, Mr. Gard- 
ener had suggested that it was wiser to 
take every precaution. Now the ashes had 
blown in. every direction and the three 
sticks, which usually stood like a tripod 
above the camp fire, had tumbled abjectly 
down. More important, the kitchen tent 
had collapsed. 

When Vera reached Peggy she discovered 
that she was pulling at the tent ropes and 
trying to find out the extent of the damage. 

^^Do try to dig out a saucepan or a 
kettle or anything you can find, please, 
Vera,” Peggy suggested. ^‘1 am going to 
start a fire and make some coffee, if one of 
us can find the stuff. Nothing happened 
of any consequence and yet my knees are 
as shaky as if I had been through the war. 
And I’m afraid Tante will be ill. Mother 
wrote me not to forget — even if she never 
spoke of the fact — that she really is out 


AFTER EFFECTS 


215 


here for her health. I donT know whether 
being a Camp Fire guardian can be much 
of a health cure, but at least it is stimulat- 
ing.” And Peggy laughed and set to work- 
ing vigorously with Vera^s aid to search 
out what was needed. In the meantime, 
Dawapa kept fairly close beside her. For, 
apparently, she was less shy with her and 
liked her best. 

Bettina had knelt down beside Polly. 

“I hope you are all right,” she began, 
wishing that she did not always appear so 
cold and reserved before her mother’s best 
beloved friend, and that she could show 
the extent of the admiration and affection 
she felt for her. 

^^You are very good, ^Little Princess,’ 
to think of me,” Polly said more lovingly 
than she usually spoke to any of the girls 
except Peggy and Gerry. “But I seem 
to be hoarse as a crow from the sand in 
my throat. Sit here beside me for a 
moment, won’t you? After a little we must 
all go back to bed. Ellen has gone to hunt 
up a blanket or something for me. Are 
you cold?” 

Bettina shook her head “No,” but she 


216 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


sat down close to Polly, wishing that she 
could take her hand, or do one of the pretty 
things with her that came so easily to Gerry 
Williams or any of the girls even without 
the claim that she had upon her mother^s 
old friend. 

A moment later she and Mrs. Bur- 
ton were both laughing, in spite of the 
strangeness and discomfort of their sit- 
uation. 

Marie had found her mistress. 

“We will go back to ceevelization today, 
nes pas. The West it is too terreeble. 
It will be ze death of madame.’^ 

Marie was shaking her hands and roll- 
ing her eyes. Even in the semi-darkness 
one could guess her expression from the 
tones of her voice. “But for Meester 
Simpson, I should have been killed.’’ 

“Oh, not so bad as that, Mam’selle,” 
Mr. Simpson added, for he had followed to 
see that all was well. “I’ll go now, Mrs. 
Burton, and see that the sleeping tents are 
steady, so that you may have a little rest 
tonight.” 

“And you’ll find some wraps for the girls, 
please, Marie?” Polly added, knowing that 


AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 217 


the wisest way to quiet Marie’s excited 
nerves was to give her an occupation. 

She then closed her eyes, it seemed to 
be for only two or three moments, but 
opened them in time to see the Indian, 
who had warned them earlier in the eve- 
ning of the approach of the storm, coming 
toward her for the second time as she 
supposed. She had been foolish, perhaps, 
not to have heeded his information, but 
they could have done nothing, except per- 
haps to start out for the Gardener ranch. 
And more than possibly they would not 
have arrived in time. Then, as nothing 
had really happened of consequence, they 
must have had the long ride in vain. How- 
ever, Mrs. Burton felt that she owed the 
Indian youth an apology for her careless 
disregard of his good intention. 

She was opening her mouth to speak to 
him when she found that Tewa had appar- 
ently not even seen her. 

He had dropped down on his knees before 
Bettina, and yet far enough away to be 
entirely respectful. 

“You are not hurt; all is well with you, 
Anacoana? I have been waiting in a cave 


218 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


not far away, where I wished that all of 
you might take refuge,^' he explained. 

Bettina felt her cheeks crimson and a 
sensation more of surprise than anything 
else for the instant kept her silent. 

She had told Tewa her Camp Fire name 
and he had used it several times. But 
that had not seemed remarkable. They were 
friends and she had found him unusually 
interesting. He had told her of the work 
he hoped to do for his people as a lawyer 
representing their claims before the great 
Government of the United States which so 
often had misunderstood the Indian. And 
Bettina, whose life had largely been spent 
in Washington among the lawmakers of 
the country, had found nothing ridiculous 
in this idea. 

Tewa had even confessed the strug- 
gle he had always to make, not to 
return to the life and customs of his 
own people at each home-coming. And 
Bettina had urged him to follow his larger 
ideal. 

Now, however, his use of her Camp Fire 
title — even his interest in her welfare — 
struck her as almost impertinent. Yet 


AFTER EFFECTS 


219 


she did the Indian the justice to realize 
he had not meant this. 

^^We are all perfectly safe; the storm 
was not in the least serious/^ Bettina 
replied coldly, although she could feel her 
voice suddenly shaking. 

Although Mrs. Burton had not yet 
spoken, Bettina was aware that she had 
become deeply annoyed; that in some 
fashion she was entirely misunderstanding 
the situation. But how could she explain; 
what was there to say at the moment? 

^Go to your tent, please, Bettina; I will 
speak to Tewa,’^ Polly said with a coldness 
of which she was always capable. The 
whole atmosphere had changed. Bettina 
felt humiliated and angry, but obedience 
was the only possible thing. Yet she had 
the sensation of not having been altogether 
fairly treated. Why was there no real 
sympathy and understanding between 
Mrs. Burton and her? She ought not to 
be made responsible for a situation she 
could not have avoided. 

But Bettina did not see their Camp Fire 
guardian alone until late that coming 
afternoon. 


220 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


On her dismissal she had found Peggy 
and Vera, and assisted them with the mak- 
ing and serving of the coffee. She had 
also scorched her cheeks, which were burn- 
ing hot in any case, making a plate of toast. 
Then, after a frugal breakfast and just as 
the sun was rising over the new Sunrise 
Hill camp, the campers went back to bed. 

And no one got up until about lunch 
time. 

Polly did not come out of her tent all 
day. 

However, just before dusk she sent for 
Bettina. 

Sitting up in bed, Mrs. Richard Burton 
was looking rather more frail than the people 
who loved her world like to have seen. 
And Bettina was also worried by her appear- 
ance, although she did not know just what 
to say. 

Of course, the fact of the matter was 
that Polly had been uncomfortable all day 
over what she thought was Bettina’s too 
intimate friendship with the young Indian, 
in whom she herself was interested. She 
knew that she did not understand Bettina’s 
disposition, and that she did not have her 


AFTER EFFECTS 


221 


confidence. She was also afraid of her own 
ability as a satisfactory Camp Fire guard- 
ian. All this, beside the experience of the 
night, had made her ill and undeniably 
cross. 

'^In future, as a favor, Bettina, I must 
ask you to have nothing more to do with 
Tewa. The young man comes here to 
camp as a teacher — not to be a cavalier 
to any one of you girls. You are to have 
nothing more to do with him.^’ 

Polly Burton spoke in the domineering 
tone which she often used when she was 
cross. She had been doing this ever since 
her girlhood and always in the old days it 
had offended Betty Aston, who was now 
Betty Graham and Bettina’s mother. It 
offended Bettina at the moment. No one 
had ever really ordered her to do this or 
that in her life — this was neither her mother 
nor her father^s method. 

Besides, it struck Bettina as unfair to 
her and to the young man who had be- 
friended her. 

Tewa had been invited to camp by their 
guardian and had been treated as a friend. 
He was educated and courteous, and Bet- 


222 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


tina did not wish to appear unkind or 
ungrateful. Besides, by this time it struck 
her as absurd to have paid any attention 
to the young Indian’s use of her Camp Fire 
name. 

But Tante was looking at her and wait- 
ing for an answer. And evidently she had 
no idea that the answer could be of but 
one kind. 

“Very well; I shall do what you wish, 
of course,” Bettina replied, but speaking 
wdth a dignity and a hauteur which had 
partly helped to earn for her the once 
childish title of “Little Princess.” “But 
really, Tante, I do not see why you are 
suddenly taking this attitude; nor what 
Tewa has done that we should not be 
friendly with him. I do not see why, be- 
cause he is an Indian, we should be less 
courteous to him than he has been to us. 
I am sorry that he called me by my Camp 
Fire title tonight, but I can’t see that it 
makes a great difference.” 

“I prefer not to discuss the subject, 
Bettina,” PoUy answered decisively. Nor 
did she show the least sign of relenting at 
Bettina’s acquiescence. 


CHAPTER XVII 


Mistakes 


ERTAINLY, in the days that fol- 
lowed, Bettina kept her word. 



Watching her, as she felt it her 
duty to do, her Camp Fire guardian could 
not see the slightest swerving from her 
promise. 

Yet Se-kyal-ets-tewa continued to come 
now and then to camp, and Mrs. Burton 
continued to like him, as she had from their 
first meeting on the train. 

After all, she was not so conventional a 
woman that she should have objected to a 
friendship between Bettina and the young 
man, simply because he was an Indian. He 
was well educated; even more than that, 
he was a student and would one day be a 
leader among his own people. And never, 
except for a single moment the night of the 
storm, had he apparently failed in entire 
respect to each member of the Camp Fire 
club. He was far more courteous, more 


( 223 ) 


224 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 

dignified and more helpful than an Ameri- 
can fellow would have been under similar 
circumstances. 

But it was true that Mrs. Burton consid- 
ered Bettina more anxiously than she did 
the other girls, for several reasons. In the 
first place, there was always Betty — Bet- 
tina’s mother — to be thought of, who was 
a far more conventional woman than her 
celebrated friend Polly Burton would ever 
learn to be. This had been true in their 
girlhood, and the different circumstances of 
their lives had emphasized it. For Betty 
Graham, as Senator Graham’s wife, living 
in Washington, was compelled by the con- 
ditions of political life, as well as by her 
own nature and point of view, to conform 
to the conventions that every capital city 
requires. And Polly Burton and her hus- 
band, although famous members of their 
profession, naturally passed a wholly differ- 
ent existence. They knew all the actor 
people with whom they worked— rich and 
poor, successful and unsuccessful. It was 
impossible to Polly Burton, as it had been 
to Polly O’Neill, to like people for their pos- 
sessions — or even for their attainments — 


MISTAKES 


225 


but only for some characteristic which 
appealed to her vivid and emotional tem- 
perament. So she was always making odd 
and not always desirable friendships and 
generously doing for people, some of whom 
were worth while and some who were not. 

So, personally, she would like to have 
befriended Se-kyal-ets-tewa far more than 
she was at present doing. But the idea of 
Bettina^s befriending him was not the same 
thing. For Mrs. Burton considered that 
Bettina^s mother would have objected to 
any possibility of an intimacy between her 
daughter and any young man not in her own 
social position. Betty herself had been in 
love with Anthony Graham before he was 
a person of the least importance; but 
grown people have a way of forgetting the 
facts in their own lives. However, Polly 
may have been mistaken in her theory of 
Bettina's mother’s point of view. In writing, 
she had never mentioned the young Indian, 
except in a casual fashion, and never that 
Bettina appeared more interested in him 
than any one of the other girls. Indeed, 
she had not thought this herself until 
Gerry’s suggestion to her. 


15 


226 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


After all, was Gerry behind the present 
situation? Would Mrs. Burton have paid 
any attention to Tewa’s simple speech or 
to his frank show of concern, except for 
Gerry’s past innuendos? So slight a thing 
can arouse human suspicion in this unstable, 
all too human, world. 

However, as a matter of justice, Mrs. 
Burton was not aware that Gerry’s speech 
had any influence upon her. 

And, unfortunately, Bettina’s present 
coldness was not only bestowed upon Tewa 
but upon the Camp Fire guardian as well. 
She was angry and hurt over what appeared 
to her a nonsensical and arbitrary attitude. 

But she said nothing to any one of what 
had taken place — ^not even to Peggy — and 
Mrs. Burton said nothing either. 

If Bettina had known, however, there 
was some one else watching her — the last 
person whom she would ever have dreamed 
of. This was the Indian girl, Dawapa. 

Dawapa was staying with the Camp Fire 
girls at their Arizona camp. Occasionally 
she went home to old Nampu’s house, but 
only to return within a few hours. She 
was an odd creature — a skiKul artist — 


MISTAKES 


227 


knowing how to make beautiful pottery; 
a weaver of wonderful baskets — a clever 
worker in brass and silver, but with little 
other sense. The new Sunrise Camp Fire 
girls had learned a great deal of hand craft 
from their Indian guest. However, she was 
unlike the ordinary Indian girl. Indeed, 
she had never had many companions among 
the members of her own race. They were 
gay and energetic, laughing and chattering 
among themselves, with jokes and quarrels 
and interests much like any other race of 
girls. 

But something about Dawapa had kept 
her apart from them. She was morbidly 
shy and timid, and yet in a way she had a 
curious pride about herself, feeling that her 
fair skin and hair set her above other 
Indian maidens. Besides, her mother, 
Nampu, was rich, her pottery having gone 
all over the world to be placed in museums 
in far countries, revealing the possibilities 
in art of the American Indian. 

So in her way Dawapa was vain, as many 
shy people are vain without being suspected 
of it by other people. And she had decided 
that she wished to be betrothed to the 


228 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


young Indian chieftain, Se-kyal-ets-tewa. 
For it was thus Dawapa thought of him. 
His American ideas, his coUege education, 
did not interest her. She believed that, like 
aU good Indians, he would return to his 
own people and take up the work of his 
father — a kiva chief, when his college days 
were past. 

To an American girl this attitude of 
Dawapa’s may seem a strange one, as she 
was only between sixteen and seventeen 
years old. But there was nothing extraor- 
dinary in it; the Indian girl marries young, 
and in the Hopi country it is the girl who 
proposes marriage. Also the children 
belong to their mother^s clan. 

Before the coming of the corn time 
Dawapa had begged old Nampu to make 
her wishes known to Se-kyal-ets-tewa^s 
people. But Nampu, for all her stupid and 
squaw-like appearance, was wiser and more 
acquainted with the ways of the white 
world than one would have given her credit 
for. 

She had known the Indian boy since his 
childhood and many an hour he had talked 
to her of his ambitions, his dreams, while 


MISTAKES 


229 


she worked swiftly and silently at her pot- 
tery. She knew that he had taken all the 
prizes at the government schools; that his 
teachers at the schools had insisted he be 
sent East to college. Old Nampu also knew 
that Se-kyal-ets-tewa’s desires had become 
like those of the white youth. He would 
wish to have at least some part in choosing 
his own life companion. 

Therefore the old Indian woman had put 
Dawapa off, telling her that she was too 
young; that the Indian youth must be 
allowed to finish his education. She had 
not told her that marriage between them 
was impossible, because Nampu herself 
wished that it might take place. The 
Indian gods would see to it, perhaps, by the 
mysterious methods which they alone 
understood. Besides, old Nampu, as we 
know, was also a medicine woman, and 
there are love potions which may be made 
from herbs as well as healing ones. 

Then Dawapa came to visit the Sunrise 
Camp Fire girls and believed she saw that 
Tewa fancied the white girl, Bettina. 

Dawapa did not have the average intelli- 
gence of the girls of her own race. Cer- 


230 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


tainly she had no appreciation of simple 
friendliness. 

But there was so little upon which to 
hang her suspicions that Dawapa would 
probably have let the idea slip from her 
mind, except that Gerry Williams, who 
guessed the situation, occasionally teased 
her concerning it. 

It may be that Gerry simply was teas- 
ing, since there are persons who have a 
mischievous spirit without having a mali- 
cious one. 

But, then, behind everything else that 
had happened, or was to come, was the 
fact that Gerry disliked Bettina. 

Since their first meeting she hud not liked 
what she called her coldness and pride. 
Then there was the more recent sting of 
their open quarrel. Moreover, to Gerry^s 
nature it was tantalizing to know that Bet- 
tina had the very things she most desired, 
without appreciating them; even though 
with her prettiness and wit she expected 
some day to acquire all she wished. 

As a matter of fact, however, Bettina was 
not conscious that Gerry actually disliked 
her; only that they were antagonistic. 


MISTAKES 


231 


For her share of their quarrel she had 
apologized on the following day, being too 
well bred and really too sweet-tempered not 
to feel remorse. 

July^s golden sun had faded and the blis- 
tering dog-days^ sun of August arrived, and 
with it the time for the Sunrise Camp Fire 
girls and their guardian to make their pil- 
grimage to the nearby Indian villages to 
witness their August ceremonial dances. 
For then the Indian priests performed great 
magic that the gods might send down much 
rain on the corn crops. 

Therefore, under the direction of Mr. 
Jefferson Simpson, the Camp Fire tents 
were transferred from the neighborhood of 
Cottonwood Creek to the valley near the 
base of the three mesas, where the five 
Hopi villages stand. 

The Camp Fire party went a few days 
in advance of any of the important cere- 
monies, knowing a great number of tourists 
would come crowding in as the time of the 
flute and snake dances drew near. 

It was the evening of the second day 
after their arrival at the new tenting place, 
and Mrs. Burton and her niece were tak- 


232 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


ing a walk a little after their camp fire 
supper. The other girls were busy with 
the work, but Polly had asked that Peggy 
be spared to her. 

They were strolling along hand in hand, 
like two girls, looking up toward the sum- 
mit of a mesa several hundred feet in 
height. To the north and left was the 
largest of the Hopi villages — the town of 
Oraibi. Below in the valley were the corn- 
fields of the Indians, now tall and green, 
although with only small ears of corn show- 
ing on the waving stalks. Here, also, were 
their peach orchards and gardens. 

But the woman and girl had come away 
from these and were walking along a road 
almost at the bottom of the mesa. It was 
difficult to see the village in detail from 
below, as the houses seemed to be colored 
like the living rock. 

^^Tewa says his town of Oraibi was on 
this very spot, in 1540, when Coronado 
discovered the province of Tusayan,’’ Peggy 
remarked. She was in a reflective mood, 
since neither she nor her aunt had been 
talking for the past five minutes, so intent 
were they both on the strangeness of their 


MISTAKES 


233 


surroundings. ''Odd, isn't it, Tante, that 
the civilization out here is really older than 
one finds in many places in Europe, only 
we know so little of it. You'll take me to 
Europe some day, won't you?" 

Polly nodded. "Take you any place in 
the world you wish to go, Peggy mine, if I 
am free and you think you love me enough 
to endure my society. Sometimes I am 
afraid, however, I am not a very successful 
Camp Fire guardian. What do you girls 
honestly think of me?" 

Polly looked directly at her niece and her 
lips twitched, a little with amusement and 
a little with concern. 

One knew that, to a straightforward 
question, Peggy Webster was unable to 
return anything but a truthful answer. 
She flushed slightly. 

"They think you are awfully charming, 
dearest." 

Polly laughed. " To be charming, Peggy, 
is hardly a valuable characteristic of a 
Camp Fire guardian, or even of a Camp 
Fire girl, since there are a number of things 
I can think of as more important. Go 
ahead; be honest, dear. I have been 


234 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


thinking if our Camp Fire club is to go on 
for a time longer, as I wish it to do, I 
ought to know what we are accomplishing 
together/’ 

^^Oh, well, Tante, you are terribly inspir- 
ing; the girls all think that and say they 
never felt so happy or so alive as they have 
since they came out here with you, and 
they never have learned so many things. 
But ” 

^'But what, Peggy, please?” Polly asked 
more seriously than she had yet spoken. 

^^But,” continued Peggy a little desper- 
ately, as if she felt herself pushed to the 
wall, ^^some of us don’t — at least, I don’t 
think you understand all of the girls equally 
well. Sometimes you seem to have favor- 
ites. Oh, I don’t mean that you are not 
extremely kind to us all alike, and I don’t 
want you to feel that any one is ungrateful.” 

^^Has some one complained of me to 
you, Peggy?” Mrs. Burton asked quickly. 

Peggy shook her head. Goodness no, 
dear, and it isn’t fair for you to be asking 
me questions if you are going to get wrong 
impressions from me. Mother always told 
me that you did not like being criticised.” 


MISTAKES 


235 


Ridiculous! Think of Mollie Webster 
daring to tell her daughter a thing like that 
when she has been criticising me all her 
life and I have never dared resent any- 
thing she has ever said. I suppose because 
the things were mostly true,” Mrs. Burton 
ended, with her cheeks as crimson as a 
girl's. ''But you are right, Peggy; perhaps 
we had best not talk personalities. I am 
sorry I am not ' understandy . ' It is per- 
haps the most valuable trait a Camp Fire 
guardian can have. Anyhow, I'll be glad 
when the next few days are over. I con- 
fess I feel nervous over looking after all of 
you girls through these strange Indian cere- 
monies. They sound terrifying to me — 
the weird costumes and noises — and I've 
positive nightmares over the snake dance,'' 
"Oh, you have too much imagination, 
Tante, and you take us too seriously. 
After aU, we are not babies and you are 
not responsible if things do go a little 
wrong with us. I sometimes think I ought 
to look after you more,'' Peggy answered 
seriously. "But you know we have a 
friend at court. Tewa's father is a kiva 
chief in Oraibi and Tewa will be sure to try 


236 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


to take care of us. He promised Bettina 
and me to show us over his father^s house 
one day. May we go? I^d like to see a 
real Indian house.’^ 

Mrs. Burton shook her head. ^^We will 
be tired out with things Indian in the next 
week/^ she answered, evading the question. 
^‘But I am glad that Terry Benton and 
Ralph Marshall and perhaps some of their 
friends are to watch the ceremonies with 
us. I feel a good deal more comfortable, 
being in their society than in an Indian^s 
on their festival days. I have no doubt 
Tewa’s veneering of civilization vdll pass 
from him completely.’^ 

Peggy laughed and threw back her head 
so that her dark eyes, clear and frank as a 
sweet boy’s, rested on the summit of the 
old cliffs above them. 

^^Oh, I don’t believe the Indian is as 
bad as he is painted,” she said jokingly. 
'^Really, there are ideas and symbols in their 
religion which seem to me very beautiful 
when one understands them. And Tewa is 
a very fine fellow, I think, regardless of his 
nationality. But come on, let’s go back, 
dear. How cool the nights do grow out 


MISTAKES 


237 


here, even after the hot August days. 
DonT those gray Indian houses, with the 
ladders leading to their second floors, look 
like ruins of romantic old stone battle- 
ments?’^ 


CHAPTER XVIII 


The Indian Village 

N ot only was the Sunrise Camp Fire 
guardian a little relieved by the 
companionship of Ralph Marshall 
and Terry Benton and their western friend, 
Howard Brent, the next day, but the girls 
as well. 

The climb up a precipice of four hundred 
or more feet to reach the village of Oraibi 
required a good deal of effort, but, for- 
tunately, the camping party had grown 
accustomed to climbing in the past two 
months. But once there, for the difference 
in appearance between Oraibi and a white 
man’s city, one might have made a journey 
to the moon. 

The houses were gray, like the native 
stone, and built on terraces with outside 
ladders ascending to their second floors. 
They were made of slabs of stone set in 
mud, and had many tiny windows. 

Today the narrow streets were thronging 

( 238 ) 


THE INDIAN VILLAGE 239 


with Indian men and women dressed in 
extraordinary festal clothes. 

The Camp Fire party had arisen at day- 
light and yet they had missed the singing 
and the race from the plain below in the 
early morning performance of the great 
Snake Ceremony. At present, young men 
and old kept appearing out of kivas, which 
are the. underground chambers where the 
Indian secret religious ceremonies are per- 
formed. And their faces were so strangely 
painted, their heads decorated with such 
brightly colored feathers, and their bodies so 
strung with beads, gay blankets and strips 
of long fur, that they might have come 
from some region far deeper under the 
ground. 

The group of Camp Fire girls remained 
as close together as possible. 

For, beside the Indians, there were many 
tourists in the streets — Mexican cowboys, 
western ranchmen, travelers from the East 
and visiting Indians from other tribes. 

Whenever it was possible, Bettina kept 
her arm linked in Peggy's, for Peggy was 
such a sensible person she seldom suffered 
from imaginative fears. However, Peggy's 


240 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


attention was absorbed, whenever the young 
man could manage it, by Howard Brent. 
He seemed to like Peggy’s straightforv^ard- 
ness and her fearless, original comments on 
everything that interested her. 

Ralph Marshall and Terry Benton de- 
voted themselves to Sally Ashton and 
Gerry Williams, except when they deserted 
the girls to talk to Mrs. Burton. And 
this they seemed to do as often as it was 
possible. 

Although Ralph Marshall had been to 
camp two or three times since the evening 
of the dance, Bettina had never talked 
to him again alone. She was polite, of 
course, because of her mother’s wishes, 
but it was idle to attempt a friendship 
with any human being with whom one felt 
so uncongenial. His somewhat flippant 
comments on the Indian preparations they 
were witnessing annoyed Bettina. 

Nevertheless she wondered how she could 
have ever believed that she would be 
attracted by the life and customs of the 
Indians. If they were a peaceful semi- 
civilized tribe, their appearance belied it. 
Bettina did not understand that the Snake 


THE INDIAN VILLAGE 241 


Festival, which they expected to witness 
that day, was the strangest and most 
incomprehensible of all the religious cere- 
monies of the western Indians. 

The morning songs had been sung; the 
race of the young Indian warriors, from the 
plain to the mesa to obtain the consecrated 
objects to place in their fields of corn, had 
taken place. 

There would be nothing further of impor- 
tance until toward noon. 

Therefore, the Sunrise Camp Fire party 
was wandering about, not knowing exactly 
what to do next. 

They were standing in front of an Indian 
house which looked a little handsomer than 
the others, when the door opened and a 
young man came out. 

He was really splendid in appearance, 
for he was not costumed in the fantastic 
fashion of the other braves. He wore a 
shirt of a wonderful shade of blue — the 
dye once made by the Hopi Indians — ^but 
now almost unknown, leather trousers, an 
embroidered belt, and moccasins bound 
about his legs with strips of leather. In 
his belt there was a beautiful hand-made 


16 


242 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


javelin or dagger with a hilt of unpohshed 
jewels, turquoise and topaz and sapphires. 
His face and body were unpainted, but 
about his head was a circle of gray and 
white feathers fastened to a band on which 
was set in jewels a design meant to represent 
the rising sun. And the young man’s 
figure was nearly perfect and his skin of 
light bronze. 

He would have moved on, merely bowing 
gravely to his friends, for they of course 
immediately recognized him, except that 
Mrs. Burton impetuously spoke. She was 
really filled with admiration and also with 
amazement. Could it be possible that a man 
with the education and apparently the in- 
tellect the young Indian had, could take part 
in a ceremony which one knew to be as re- 
volting to civilized ideas as the Snake dance? 

^^Tewa, is it true you are one of the 
Snake Priests?” Mrs. Burton demanded 
unexpectedly. 

The young man turned and came up to 
her. 

Ralph Marshall, who was standing beside 
Mrs. Burton at the moment, gave a low 
exclamation. 


THE INDIAN VILLAGE 243 


^'Mase, it can^t be you,” he said in 
astonishment, making no effort to conceal 
his bewilderment. “Why, at college I 
should never have thought you would ever 
dress or behave like your own people 
again. You were a grind except when it 
came to being on top in athletics.” 

It was the Indian who explained the 
situation. 

“Mr. Marshall and I were classmates at 
college.” Then, without appearing to notice 
the others in the group, all of whom were 
listening to his reply: “I see no reason, 
Marshall, why you should be astounded. 
I am an Indian; being educated as a 
white man has neither changed my race nor 
blood. Many of the customs that seemed 
good to my father still seem good to me. 
We shall never understand each other. 
When the Indian wants rain to save him- 
self and his people from hunger he prays 
to the gods who have power over the clouds 
to send down rain on the earth. In your 
white man^s religion, though you say if 
you have faith the size of a mustard seed 
you can remove mountains, yet you make 
no prayers to the forces of nature. No, 


244 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


Mrs. Burton, I am not a Snake Priest,’^ 
Se-kyal-ets-tewa answered, “or my costume 
would be unlike this, as you will see later. 
But I am one of the runners at dawn and 
at dusk when the ceremony is over.’’ He 
stopped, hesitating a moment and looking 
from Mrs. Burton to Bettina, to whom he 
had not yet spoken. 

“You said at one time that you would 
like to see inside an Indian house. This is 
my home. Would you and your friends 
care to look through it?” 

No one could have spoken more simply 
or more courteously, and Mrs. Burton was 
unfeignedly glad to accept. Indeed, she 
was first to follow the young man indoors, 
the rest of the party close behind her, and 
Bettina still holding to Peggy’s arm. 

They came into a big living room, the 
floor covered with sand, but clean and 
straight. Jars and vases of handsome 
pottery were about the room and the walls 
hung with bright blankets. 

In the room was Dawapa and an elderly 
Indian squaw whom Tewa explained was 
his father’s wife. Only here did he show 
any feelings of embarrassment or shame. 


THE INDIAN VILLAGE 245 


He was careful to let them know that the 
squaw was not his own mother. 

But the interesting room was the corn 
room, or the Indian storehouse. Here the 
corn was sorted according to color — blue 
and red and yellow — and laid on the stone 
floor. In one corner of the room were 
three hollow stones and a big stone to be 
held in the hands and used for grinding 
corn. 

As Peggy was interested in this and the 
room was not large, she walked over 
toward the place, leaving Bettina for the 
moment alone. However, standing near 
were Mrs. Burton and Ralph Marshall 
Gerry Williams and Vera. 

But Bettina was not talking to any one 
of them and was a few feet away. 

At once the Indian youth turned and 
walked up to her. 

^'Have I offended you. Miss Graham?^’ 
he asked. ^^I thought you were my friend 
and the thought gave me pleasure. But 
of late you do not speak to me. You do 
not care to listen to the legends and songs 
of my people, which you once said you 
enjoyed. If you are weary I do not wish 


246 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


to trouble you, but if I have given you 
cause for anger I desire to ask pardon/’ 

There was nothing in what the Indian 
said to make one embarrassed or unhappy; 
his manner was perfectly respectful and 
courteous, yet Bettina found herself blush- 
ing hotly. She realized that the others, 
even if they were not listening, could not 
fail to hear. And she wondered what her 
Camp Fire guardian would think of the 
situation. 

But Bettina was not a coward, nor was 
she ever wilfully unkind. Indeed, she had 
an unusual gentleness and sweetness and 
did not like to wound. 

^^No, you have not offended me and I 
am still interested in what you used to 
tell me,” she answered with quiet friendli- 
ness, ^^only it is not possible that I should 
listen to you any more.” 

Whatever the young man’s feelings at 
Bettina’s reply, he gave no sign, and she 
moved across the room and stood pretend- 
ing to look at a crude drawing in bright 
colors which was painted on the wall. 

Her back was turned to the rest of the 
party. 


THE INDIAN VILLAGE 247 


As the room was a small one, Peggy and 
a few of the others had already gone out of 
doors. 

Except the Camp Fire guardian, really 
no one paid much attention to the conversa- 
tion between Bettina and their Indian host 
save Gerry Williams. Ralph Marshall 
looked at them a little curiously, but was 
too well bred to overhear what was being 
said. 

But Gerry saw that Mrs. Burton was 
pleased, both with Bettina^s speech and 
manner and suffered an uncomfortable pang 
of jealousy. She had no idea of being able 
to rival Peggy Webster in her aunt’s affec- 
tions, but she did not intend that any one 
else should supplant her as the next favorite. 

Gerry really felt a great admiration and 
affection, a girl’s hero worship — which is 
more frequent than most people realize — 
for the great actress who had made so 
much of her life with no help save her own 
ability. But, more than this, Gerry felt 
that it would be extremely useful to her if 
she could have Mrs. Burton’s friendship 
and, more than that, her assistance. For 
Gerry had her own way to make and did 


248 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 

not see how she could make it in the way 
she wished unaided. 

More than this, she disliked Bettina, and 
a sudden spirit of mischief possessed her. 

As soon as Bettina walked away, Tewa 
joined Mrs. Burton and together they left 
the room, the others following. But Gerry, 
seeing that Bettina had not turned, re- 
mained behind till the last. 

Then, just as soon as she saw that 
Bettina had become aware the others were 
leaving her, Gerry slipped out, quickly 
fastening the big wooden door behind 
her. It fastened with a crude wooden 
latch. 

It did not occur to Gerry that Bettina 
would not soon follow them. Some one 
in the Indian house would be sure to open 
the door as soon as she called out. 

Once in the narrow street where the 
crowds were now gathering in greater 
number, Gerry really repented her foolish, 
indeed her malicious, childishness. She 
thought of returning herself to open the 
door, but she had been careful to hide 
from Bettina^s gaze and, even if Bettina 
saw what she had done, Gerry was of 


THE INDIAN VILLAGE 249 


course prepared to insist she had not 
dreamed the room was not empty. 

In the street Tewa said good-by to the 
Sunrise Camp Fire party at once, and they 
started immediately toward the great Snake 
Ejva. 

A special effort had been made that Mrs. 
Burton and her party have entrance to 
this underground chamber where the first 
part of the famous festival was to take 
place. 

It was then nearly noon and it was with 
difficulty that each person made the way 
along. Except that Ralph tried to be of 
service to Mrs. Burton in engineering her, 
and Sally clung to Terry Benton^s arm, the 
others struggled alone, too intent on the 
surroundings to think of anything else. 

Moreover, the procession of Snake Priests 
were passing on their way to the kiva. 

Each priest wore on his head a brilliant 
head-dress of gay feathers and about his 
knee a tortoise shell rattle. And aU of 
them were painted in an alarming fashion 
and had their necks strung with silver and 
jeweled beads. * 

They went first into the underground 


250 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


chamber which was on the outskirts of the 
village, the persons who were to be allowed 
to enter following behind them. For, this 
rite of the Snake Ceremony the Indian 
guards carefully. 

The Camp Fire party was standing 
crowded to one side and as near the entrance 
as possible. 

The scene made one’s nerves on edge 
with a curious combination of fear, repulsion 
and curiosity. 

A large bowl in which holy water was 
placed was brought into the kiva and the 
floor then sprinkled with sand for about 
ten feet. Around the sand the Snake 
Priests seated themselves on flat stones, 
one priest costumed as a War God. 

All this the Camp Fire party watched 
with absorbing interest and no particular 
horror. 

But, now, three or four of the priests 
arose and, going over to a corner of the 
kiva, picked up great jars in which the 
rattlesnakes had been kept for several days. 

Quite calmly and coolly each priest thrust 
his hand into the jar and, pulling out the 
snakes as if they had been long coils of 


THE INDIAN VILLAGE 251 


ribbon, thrust them into a canvas bag 
which he carried. 

As they started back toward the other 
priests, instinctively Peggy Webster made 
her way toward Mrs. Burton and slipped 
her hand into hers. In spite of the heat of 
the day and the stuffiness inside the great 
chamber, her aunt^s hand was cold as ice. 

feel horribly ill, Peggy, dear; I donT 
know why I ever thought of bringing you 
girls to a festival like this, no matter how 
celebrated. 

Peggy looked quickly about at their group 
and for the first time missed Bettina. But, 
being wise, Peggy said nothing. 

The girls did not seem to be so unpleasantly 
affected as Mrs. Burton; but, then, none 
of them had quite her sensitiveness and 
quick response to emotions and conditions, 
except, perhaps, Bettina, who was not 
present. 

think you had better go out, Tante,^^ 
Peggy whispered. 

Polly set her teeth with her old obstinacy. 
^^No, dear, remember I am the Camp Fire 
guardian; I can^t leave you girls alone to a 
scene like this.^^ 


252 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


The solemn moment had arrived; a low 
chanting song begun. 

A priest stuck his hand into the bag, 
drawing out as many snakes as possible. 
These he flung into the great basin of holy 
water. Other priests followed suit. Then, 
when the snakes had been washed, they 
drew them out, flinging them onto the 
floor of sand where the great mass wriggled 
and curved and twisted, kept in place by 
other priests with snake whips. 

In spite of her effort, in spite of her 
self-condemnation, Mrs. Burton felt 
the scene getting farther and farther 
away and a kind of darkness steal over 
her. 

Then she heard Peggy’s voice saying 
quietly, ^'You must walk, Tante; we are 
all going to get out of this.” 

A few moments later, in the fresh air 
again, Polly was even more annoyed with 
her own weakness and failure as a Camp 
Fire guardian. But, of one thing was she 
determined ; no more of this particular 
Indian festival did she wish her Camp Fire 
girls to see. Beautiful and symbolic as 
many of their customs, the Snake Festival, 



The Great Mass Wriggled and Curved 


( 253 ) 


254 AT THE DESERT’S EDGE 


whatever its mystic origin, was not one for 
women to witness. 

Yet Mrs. Burton feared the girls would 
oppose the return to camp. 

The actual Snake dance did not take 
place till sundown. 

Fortunately no one objected to going 
down to camp for food and rest, except 
Alice Ashton. Alice seemed perfectly calm 
and self-possessed. As she was making a 
study of Indian customs, she was aggrieved 
at being taken away in the midst of the 
most interesting part of the ceremony. 
However, she was too well brought up to 
do more than mildly object. 

Then, as they made their way toward 
the nearest trail leading down the precipitous 
mesa, almost at the same instant several of 
the Camp Fire group missed Bettina. 


CHAPTER XIX 


Re AD J USTMENTS 

is incredible, Bettina^s talent for 
I disappearing,” Mrs. Burton said to 
Peggy in a low voice, torn between 
anxiety and anger. 

But this time it was Peggy who appeared 
the more uneasy and required cheering. 

don’t think Bettina is responsible for 
her accident exactly, Tante,” she returned. 
^'And something unexpected must have 
happened this time. I hate the thought 
of the ^Little Princess,’ as I used to call 
her, being alone in a mixed crowd like this. 
No one appreciates how shy she is and she 
really isn’t much good at looking after 
herself; Aunt Betty has always been so 
careful with her.” 

“Weil, we won’t trouble about that 
now,” Mrs. Burton remarked more reas* 
suringly, appreciating Peggy’s greater nerv- 
ousness. “The thing is to look for her; 
she can’t be far away and doubtless we shall 

(255) 


256 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


find her in a few moments. Bettina 
must have waited behind when we came 
out of the kiva. I was so uncomfortable 
or I should have noticed before that she 
did not follow us.’’ 

Bettina was not in the kiva with us; 
I found that out while we were there; but 
it was not worth while to speak of it until 
we had come out and you were better.” 

Polly’s lips twitched a little with a 
smile not unmixed with criticism of her- 
self. 

Peggy, dear, I really think you ought 
to be Camp Fire guardian instead of me; 
you have so much more sense,” she whis- 
pered, turning to go back. 

hate being called sensible,” Peggy 
returned ungratefully. know it makes 
me less attractive than other girls.” And 
this really is the unreasonable attitude 
of a good many persons who have other- 
wise a tremendous lot of sense, not reaUzing 
perhaps that good judgment is about the 
most valuable human attribute. 

Ten minutes afterward Peggy and Mrs. 
Burton, who were in advance of the others, 
saw Bettina walking toward them with the 


READJUSTMENTS 


257 


Indian whom they had said good-by to per- 
haps three-quarters of an hour before. 

The streets were now less crowded, so it 
was not difficult to see them. They were 
walking in silence, but Bettina’s face was 
pale and her hps held close together, per- 
haps to keep them from trembling. 

Peggy glanced quickly from Bettina’s 
face to her aunt^s. And her own heart 
sank. 

She knew that her beloved Tante was not 
a particularly reasonable person at any 
time and that Bettina had fallen from 
grace, not once but several times since 
their camping expedition. She also knew 
that Bettina was extremely proud and 
reserved, and that she would not conde- 
scend to explanations and asking forgiveness. 

Peggy felt that she had rather a task 
before her with them both. 

^‘1 am sorry, I canT explain now why I 
was delayed, Bettina exclaimed as she 
came up to them. only wish you had 
not waited for me.*^ 

Then she turned to her companion. 

Thank you, good-by,” was aU she said 
to him. 


17 


258 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


But she did not appear penitent or even 
particularly chagrined at any inconvenience 
she may have caused the rest of the party. 

Then she joined Ellen and Alice and 
walked down to their temporary camp 
below the mesa with them. 

Peggy kept beside her aunt whenever the 
descent made it possible, but she did not 
talk to her a great deal, nor did she again 
mention Bettina. 

However, Peggy realized the difficulty 
was not over. 

Her aunt^s face was whiter than Bet- 
tina’s and her blue eyes held a coldness 
which was rare to them, since they were 
Irish eyes, usually warm and radiant and 
with a compelling power, which was a 
mark of her genius. 

It was self-evident that she believed Bet- 
tina’s act to have been sheer bravado — a 
dehberate intention to remain and talk 
alone with the young Indian, in defiance 
of her own expressed wish. 

After a late luncheon the Camp Fire 
group separated, each one of them going to 
some chosen spot to rest, the young men 
returning to the village. 


READJUSTMENTS 


259 


Polly went to her own tent worn out 
and depressed, knowing that she was not 
able to talk to Bettina for the present. 
And, more than this, that she must make 
up her mind what was best to be done in 
the future. 

Peggy found Bettina, not in her tent 
but sitting some distance away with a book 
but making no effort to read. 

Peggy sat down beside her and put her 
arm across her shoulder. 

This was a peculiar boyish fashion which 
Peggy had of expressing affection. 

^^It is all right, Bettina; I donT blame 
you a bit,^’ she remarked loyally, ‘^only 
under the circumstances I do think you 
ought to explain to Tante just what hap- 
pened. I have not spoken of it to either 
of you, but I have seen she did not like 
your being friends with Tewa. Still, I 
think it is partly because of what your 
mother would think.’’ 

There is nothing I can very well 
explain,” Bettina returned. ^^It is merely 
a matter of my word, and I am not even 
sure myself of what happened. But, of 
course, I will tell; I have really nothing to 


260 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


hide. Then you see, Peggy, dear, I am 
not accustomed to having my word 
doubted.’^ 

Bettina held her chin high with a fleet- 
ing look which suggested her mother, 
though she was not usually like her. And, 
though Peggy swallowed a sigh, seeing 
Bettina had no desire even to confide in her 
at present, she asked no further questions, 
except to add: 

“You’ll go to Tante, won’t you? After 
all, she is our Camp Fire guardian and 
must feel responsible for us. I don’t think 
we will get much from our experience 
together unless we accept some leadership.” 

And, though Bettina made no reply, 
Peggy’s last words did make an impression. 

“I think I’ll wait until she sends for 
me,” she added finally. 

So the girls waited for about two hours 
and, by and by, Marie came to say that 
Madame Burton would like to speak to 
Miss Bettina and that they would find her 
at the edge of the peach orchard, on the 
other side of their encampment. 

Explaining that she knew the place 
because she and her aunt had walked there 


READJUSTMENTS 


261 


together the evening before, Peggy went 
with her friend. 

But their Camp Fire guardian did not 
look very formidable, nor very impressive 
when the girls finally discovered her. Until 
one came close up to her she looked slender 
and young; indeed, like a girl herself. 
Marie had brought over a chair and she 
was sitting under a big peach tree, with the 
fruit hanging rose color and the leaves 
green above her head and her hands 
clasped together in her lap. 

Yet, when they were ueai- enough, Peggy, 
who understood her aunt better, saw a 
strained look of regret and suffering about 
her face, but also a look of determination, 
which the friends of Polly O’Neill’s and of 
Polly Burton’s understood very well. Pos- 
sibly, if she had not been an obstinate per- 
son, she would never have succeeded as she 
had in her work. 

am sorry to have you come so far to 
me, Bettina,” she began, ^^but I preferred 
having our talk away from the other girls. 
I did not expect you, Peggy, but after aU it 
is as well you are here. Bettina may tell 
you what she does not think it worth while 


262 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


to confide in me and that is why — with, so 
far as I can see, no real end to gain — she 
defies my wish/^ 

The beginning was unfortunate. The 
woman and the two girls realized it at once 
and perhaps they were all sorry. 

But Bettina^s face flushed and her lips 
closed firmly together. Nether girl sat 
down and Bettina held her hands clasped 
tight together before her. She looked very 
pretty and of such delicate high breeding 
that, watching her, Mrs. Burton felt a 
sensation of self-distrust. 

But Bettina was also determined to be 
obstinate and ungrateful. 

^Hf you believe I made any effort to 
deceive you, it is not worth while my tell- 
ing you differently, is there? Bettina said 
in a low voice. don^t know how it 
occurred; I was stupid, I know, but, as I 
started out of the Indian house this morn- 
ing just as I got to the door, it closed and 
fastened on the outside. I tried to push 
it open but could not manage it.’^ 

Mrs. Burton was sitting straight upright 
with her eyes fastened on Bettina^s. 

'^But, my dear child, that sounds riduc- 


READJUSTMENTS 


263 


ulous, you know. The door could not have 
latched itself; it was too crude and clumsy 
an affair. Besides, why did you not call 
out? We could not have gotten far 
away.” Always she had been too impa- 
tient with the people who did not think 
and act quickly, Polly Burton should have 
remembered. Also, she might have remem- 
bered the spirit in which she was apt to 
receive criticism when she was young. But 
this is another something which older 
persons forget. 

did call,” Bettina replied. “But I 
think I was too surprised at first. Then I 
thought some one would surely come back 
and open it for me.” 

“And Tewa did come?” Mrs. Burton 
asked. 

The question was a distrustful and an 
unkind one, and there was a painful 
silence afterwards. 

“Tewa did come, but not for some time 
afterwards. The house must have been 
empty until then, else I thought the Indian 
woman or Dawapa would have heard. 
But I did not mean them. I thought who- 
ever closed the door — ” Bettina answered. 


264 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


however, with no perceptible change in her 
voice. 

^^But who did close the door?’^ 

Polly was sorry for her last question. 
Even if she did suspect Bettina of dis- 
obedience to her, and of a very obstinate 
determination to have her own way, she 
did not appreciate just how unlovely her 
own view of Bettina’s deception was, imtil 
she had given it expression. 

^‘1 am not sure,’’ Bettina replied. 
‘^Besides, I would rather not talk on the 
subject any more. Feeling as you do 
about me — ^and for what reason I don’t 
understand — I think I would rather go 
home as soon as you can arrange it for me.” 

Bettina had spoken, but all three of 
them knew it was the idea which had been 
in their Camp Fire guardian’s mind. 

Sorry she was, of course, and perhaps 
bitterly disappointed, but the act appeared 
inevitable. There could not be misunder- 
standing and mutual antagonism between 
a Camp Fire guardian and one of her own 
group of girls, and particularly away from 
home and in the Camp Fire guardian’s 
charge. 


READJUSTMENTS 


265 


am sorrier than I can say, Bettina,^^ 
Mrs. Burton added, more gently than she 
had yet spoken. ‘^But I am afraid we 
donT understand each other and, as you 
are not willing to trust my judgment rather 
than your own, why perhaps it is best. 
Only your mother will be grieved and 
angry and disappointed with both of us.^^ 

And Polly Burton’s voice was suddenly 
full of tears. The thought of Bettina being 
Betty’s daughter and causing the first real 
trouble that had ever come between them 
in so many devoted years, filled her with 
sorrow and bitterness. After all, she had 
hoped to give Bettina a great deal of 
pleasure; this was the only possible reason 
for bringing her or any of the Camp Fire 
girls west, and had she asked a great deal 
in return? 

And although Bettina heard her Camp 
Fire guardian’s reply in silence, she too felt 
as if she were in the midst of a wretched 
dream from which there seemed to be no 
way of awaking. The whole difiiculty was 
such a matter of misunderstanding, so 
^'much ado about nothing.” And her 
mother and father would be both disap- 


266 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


pointed and offended with her. They both 
loved and admired Mrs. Burton more than 
almost anyone in the world. It would not 
be easy for them to understand why their 
daughter should make so manifest a failure 
with her. 

Clearly Bettina also realized that she 
was also forfeiting her position as a Camp 
Fire girl. Every effort might be made to 
conceal the reason for her being sent home, 
but the truth would inevitably become 
known, or, if not the truth, something more 
trying. 

However, Bettina did not speak; it 
would not have been possible at the 
moment. She was saved from it by Peggy. 

Peggy, who never had cried since she 
was a baby — about whom it was a joke in 
her family that she had not the usual femi- 
nine fountain of woe — now had her eyes 
fuU of tears and her lips shook. 

^Hf Bettina has to go back home, I am 
going with her,’^ she rephed firmly, although 
her voice was lower than usual. 

Mrs. Burton looked at her in astonish- 
ment. 

^^You, Peggy! Then you mean that you 


READJUSTMENTS 


267 


prefer to take Bettina^s view of the ques- 
tion, rather than mine; that you think she 
has a right to do as she likes, without 
respect to my judgment 

Really, Polly^s tone expressed only sur- 
prise for the instant, as she was too amazed 
over Peggy’s lack of loyalty for any other 
emotion. 

Peggy shook her head. ^^No, dear; it 
isn’t that, and you know I care for you 
more than anybody in the world, almost; 
but I don’t think you are being fair to Bet- 
tina. If she goes home alone, not only her 
own family but mine and all our friends 
who find out, will think she has done some- 
thing dreadful. And she has not done 
anything dreadful so far as I can see. 
No one will ever know how I hate giving 
up our camping together, yet I feel I 
must go.” 

^^Very well, Peggy,” Mrs. Burton 
answered in a voice she had never used to 
the girl before. ‘^Suppose we go back now 
to camp.” 


CHAPTER XX 


Understanding 

J UST at the door of Mrs. Burton^s tent 
Bettina stopped a moment. 

^^May I come in for a little, please, 
Tante; I have not told you everything,’^ 
she said under her breath, her face, which 
had been pale until this moment, flooding 
crimson. 

But it was the first time for several 
weeks that Bettina had used the title by 
which she had always called Mrs. Burton 
when she was a little girl. 

‘^Certainly,” Polly answered quietly, 
opening the flap of her curtain and enter- 
ing, the two girls following, for Peggy 
seemed determined to have a part in each 
interview. 

Her tent had been a parting gift from 
her husband and was an unusually com- 
fortable one, which held a divan, a low 
table and a chair, beside the sleeping cots. 
There were Indian blankets on the floor for 
rugs. 


( 268 ) 


UNDERSTANDING 


269 


^^PoUy sat down on the chair, motioning 
to the girls to be seated on the divan, 
am tired, she apologized. 

And Peggy saw with a pang of remorse 
and regret that her aunt looked ill as well 
as unhappy over what she had been through 
with Bettina and herself. And Peggy also 
wondered whether she would ever be for- 
given, realizing what a difference it would 
make in all her future life should she lose 
her affection. Sitting down now beside 
her aunt she did not dare speak to her nor 
touch her. 

Bettina, however, would not sit down. 
Suddenly she looked like a contrite child, 
instead of the somewhat arrogant and 
superior character she had been pretending 
to be for the past few hours. 

Reaching into her pocket she drew forth 
a small wooden statuette, carved and 
brilliantly colored. 

^^Tewa gave me this; I thought maybe 
you ought to have it,^' Bettina said peni- 
tently. ^^It seems absurd to me and yet 
I did not like to refuse and hurt his feelings 
by not accepting. I think it is a kind of 
an idol which is supposed to bring good 


270 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


fortune. Anyhow, Tewa won it at an 
Indian race this morning, and he gave it 
me when he returned to the house and 
found me there. 

And, like a child giving away a new doll, 
Bettina handed the little image to her 
Camp Fire guardian. 

Bettina and Mrs. Burton both looked so 
absurd that, partly from nervousness and 
more from amusement, Peggy giggled 
irresistibly. 

For an instant Polly and Bettina 
attempted to pay no attention to her; then 
Mrs. Burton’s blue eyes lightened and she 
bit her lips. Bettina only remained grave. 

Then, unexpectedly, because she always 
had done unexpected things and always 
would, Polly Burton, having changed but 
little from Polly O’Neill, reached out and 
impulsively took Bettina’s hand. 

^^My dear, I wonder if we have both been 
absurd and I have been unfair?” she ques- 
tioned. ^Ht is only because I have cared 
so much ” 

Bettina sat down on the rug and, unlike 
her usual reserved self, put her head down 
on Mrs. Burton’s knees, covering her face. 


UNDERSTANDING 


271 


'^Please don’t make me go home; I don’t 
want to,” she whispered, ^^but in any case 
Peggy shan’t go with me.” 

Then, before any one else could speak, 
Vera, without asking permission, walked 
inside the tent. 

“I am so sorry to interrupt,” she began, 
^‘but Gerry Williams asked me to come 
and explain something to you. She says 
she closed the door on you, Bettina, in the 
Indian house this morning, partly for a 
joke and perhaps because, in a way she 
hoped to make Mrs. Burton angry with 
you.” 

Vera spoke in an ent;irely matter-of-fact 
fashion, as if there were nothing unusual in 
her statement. But the others stared at 
her in surprise. 

^^I thought it was Gerry, but I was not 
sure enough to say so,” Bettina murmured, 
^^and I am afraid I don’t understand now.” 

“But why should she?” Mrs. Burton 
questioned. 

Peggy, as usual, came directly to the 
point. 

“It wasn’t so extraordinary; Gerry is 
built that way. I guessed her measure 


272 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


from the beginning. But the thing that 
puzzles me, Vera, is not Gerry’s mischiev- 
ousness, but how you induced her to 
confess.” 

^^Oh, I saw that something troubled her 
and I simply went to her and asked what 
it was. I had been just ahead of her when 
we left the Indian room and I suspected. 
But I did not speak of that. I usually can 
persuade people to tell me the things that 
worry them.” 

Mrs. Burton took Bettina’s hand. 

am glad we were friends before this 
happened, but I am afraid matters are still 
wrong as I now have the problem of 
Gerry. I did not dream of the difficulties 
a Camp Fire guardian might have; cer- 
tainly not of so unsuccessful a one as I am. 
Gerry will have to go back, and I had 
hoped we might do something for her.” 

Polly stopped and hesitated. 

Please, not on my account,” Bettina 
urged gently. After all, it was only a 
silly thing that Gerry did — not worth much 
attention.” 

“And after all you have always said, 
Gerry has not had the chance the rest of us 


UNDERSTANDING 


273 


have had/’ Peggy interposed, which was 
good of her, since she had not liked Gerry 
from the beginning, and liked her even less 
well now. 

Mrs. Richard Burton gave an expressive 
shrug of her slender shoulders. 

expect I am more at fault than any 
one else; but life is a matter of the future — 
not of the past — isn’t it? And yet I am 
sure we have all learned many worth- 
while things from our few months of camp- 
fire life together. So, suppose we let 
Gerry have another chance. In the mean- 
time we may be missing a wonderful sight. 
Let us walk toward Oraibi together.” 

Taking Bettina’s arm in her’s, Mrs. 
Burton left her tent, Vera and Peggy just 
behin^d. Then, after calling the other girls, 
they went again toward the road near 
the mesa crowned with the village of 
Oraibi. 

In the plain above they could faintly 
see the Snake Priests moving around in a 
large circle — then more and more quickly. 
It was not possible to appreciate exactly 
what they were doing, for, although the 
Camp Fire party had found a slight. eleva- 


18 


274 AT THE DESERT^S EDGE 


tion to stand upon, the mesa remained 
many feet above. 

It was just as well, however, that they 
could not see more distinctly. 

They did discover that, when the priests 
left the circle of dancers, they ran to the 
four quarters of the mesa and cast their 
offerings over their sides. 

And then the Camp Fire party returned 
again to their camp, since the crowds of 
tourists were coming quickly down and 
darkness was falling. 

Neither did they think again of the 
young Indian, who went away that night 
many miles across the plain to plant a 
feather prayer plume at a shrine of white 
shells in the desert. Not until morning 
did Dawn Light return to the village of 
his fathers. 

The next volume of the Camp Fire 
series will be called ^^The Camp Fire Girls 
at the End of the TraiF^ and will continue 
to tell of the adventures and romances of 
the girls in the far West. New characters 
will be introduced and new and interesting 
developments in the lives of the present 
heroines. 























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